Miracles and magic pervade the things that I've written, but yet there are no miracles and there is no magic.

Writing is seeing. It is paying attention.

The way we started was, Alison [McGhee] said, 'Tall girl, short girl.' We had no plans beyond that.

Don't drop him," said Peter's mother to his father. "Don't you dare drop him." She was laughing. "I will not," said his father. "I could not." For he is Peter Augustus Duchene, and he will always return to me. Again and again, Peter's father threw him up in the air. Again and again, Peter felt himself suspended in nothingness for a moment, just a moment, and then he was pulled back, returned to the sweetness of the earth and the warmth of his father's waiting arms. "See?" said his father to his mother. "Do you see how he always comes back to me?

We [me and Alison McGhee] probably wouldn't have said that when we were writing the stories, but it is so apparent to me in the finished product. For me, looking at Bink, it's like looking at myself on the page in a way that I've never experienced with any other book that I've written.

All of God's creatures have names, every last one of them. Of that I am sure: of that I have no doubt at all.

It seems to be that way with most things. No one to do the really disagreeable jobs except oneself.