To understand the world, one’s place in it, is to be always at the risk of drowning.

I understand that it's incredibly difficult to watch what's happening on the news every day and not become inured to it. I've fallen victim to that myself, wanting to look away.

I can't envision an honest war novel that left war in a positive light.

I wanted something that I could look back on and say, yes, you were fighting too, you burned to be alive, and whatever failure or accident of nature caused you to be killed could be explained by something other than the fact that I'd missed your giving up.

The details of the world in which we live are always secondary to the fact that we must live in them.

There is a sharp distinction between what is remembered, what is told and what is true.

The war came to me in my dreams and showed me its sole purpose: to go on, only to go on.