My first two books are out of print and, okay, they can sleep there comfortably. It's early work, derivative work.

The stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own.

It is what I was born for - to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world - to instruct myself over and over.

And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old-or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give.

What I have done is learn to love and learn to be loved. That didn't come easy.

Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dak trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more the prettiness.

A dog is adorable and noble, a dog is a true and loving friend. A dog is also a hedonist.