Out of nowhere you said, I love you. For whatever it's worth.

The anti-immigrant logic has basically saturated our world. I'm staying, and I'm fighting.

In my mind what novels do best is that they immerse us deeply into our character's world - they truly transport us deep into these spaces - but the same way you know a Hollywood movie won't end after thirty minutes, you carry in yourself the implicit contract that the novel won't throw you out of itself 'til the very end. That bulk of pages is a form of consolation, of security.

Love is the only thing - I don't want to say that "makes it bearable" - but I feel like without the possibility of love, this place would just devour us.

Sometimes you just have to try, even if you know it won’t work.

Privilege does not operate without silence.

It's exactly at these moments, when all hope has vanished, that prayer has dominion.