Bless me or not, Lord, just as You please, for I'll not beg.

I used to think there would be a blinding flash of light someday, and then I would be wise and calm and would know how to cope with everything and my kids would rise up and call me blessed. Now I see that whatever I'm like, I'm pretty well stuck with it for life. Hell of a revelation that turned out to be.

In some families, please is described as the magic word. In our house, however, it was sorry.

Pride was my wilderness, and the demon that led me there was fear.

When I say work I only mean writing. Everything else is just odd jobs.

I've never been able to force a novel. I always had the sense something being given to me. You can't sit around and wait until inspiration strikes, but neither can you force into being something that isn't there.

The dead don't bear a grudge nor seek a blessing. The dead don't rest uneasy. Only the living.