I guess when someone tells you something they they usually guard, you feel privileged, not because you know something no-one else knows, but because you feel chosen. You feel like that person wants her life to intersect with yours. I think that's what felt best about it.

The beauty of my work is that my sets cost nothing. That's what I love about being a writer of novels.

The point is, it didn’t really matter what the book was about. It was what it meant that was important.

It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.

I carried Rudy softly through the broken street...with him I tried a little harder at comforting. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It's his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.

It was a style not of perfection, but warmth. Even mistakes had a good feeling about them

I traveled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.