I met someone who lives in an elevator.

I just noticed recently that in one book after another I seem to find an excuse to find some character who, to put it idiotically simply, is allowed to talk crazy.

Poetry is supposed to be musical. But people don't understand prose. They're so used to reading journalism - clunky, functional sentences that convey factual information - facts, more than just the surfaces of things.

I hate feeling too complacent when I write. I like to be solving new problems.

Novelists get to direct the perfect films. We get to cast every part. We dress the set exactly as we wish.

My heart, to put it more simply, got nostalgic for the present. Always a bad sign.

Someday I would change my name to Shut Up and save everybody a lot of time.