I don't write about anything I don't love even if that love sometimes gets all screwed up and tormented.

I had an all-Fear of Music iPod, just versions of the 11 songs from the record. No other songs allowed.

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

I never have been a musician; I'm not actually capable. Because I can't even pretend to acquire the gift, all of my first feelings about art are still attached to music. I look at it yearningly, I look at it wonderingly. I behold it from afar, as something unattainable, something outside of myself, from which I can take nourishment, but I can't domesticate and master.

I'm learning to hate the sound of my own voice.

However appalling to consider, however tedious to enact, every novel requires furniture, whether it is to be named or unnamed, for the characters will be unable to remain in standing position for the duration of the story.

The world's large enough and interesting enough to take a different approach each time you sit down to write about it.