This is what those who haven’t crossed the tropic of grief often fail to understand: the fact that someone is dead may mean that they are not alive, but doesn’t mean that they do not exist.

Perhaps the world progresses not by maturing, but by being in a permanent state of adolescence, of thrilled discovery.

This was long before the term 'single-parent family' came into use; back then it was a 'broken home'.

The best life for a writer is the life which helps him write the best books he can.

In 1980, I published my first novel, in the usual swirl of unjustified hope and justified anxiety.

Every love story is a potential grief story.

Some of the freckles I once loved are now closer to liver spots. But it’s still the eyes we look at, isn’t it? That’s where we found the other person, and find them still.