It took me as long as I had known him to get rid of all of his words. Like turning an hourglass over.

Only now do I understand the war against boredom, the lost cause of empty hours, of empty days and nights.

People who become used to saying little become used to feeling little.

One of the things that I love about writing novels is that it really doesn't matter what next step you take as long as you're pursuing some intuition or instinct. Of course, then, intuitions or instincts don't make for great novels, but they often make for good first drafts.

Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.

I'm interested in the kind of religion that makes life harder. I'm not so interested in the comforting kind of religion.

Things were happening around us, but nothing was happening between us.