I believe in such cartography – to be marked by nature, not just label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. ... All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps.

A blind lover, don't know what I love till I write it out

This last night we tear into each other, as if to wound, as if to find the key to everything before morning.

Why are you not smarter? It's only the rich who can't afford to be smart. They're compromised. They got locked years ago into privilege. They have to protect their belongings. No one is meaner than the rich. Trust me. But they have to follow the rules of their shitty civilised world. They declare war, they have honour, and they can't leave. But you two. We three. We're free.

As someone who writes novels that are often set in other periods of time or other ages or other landscapes, there's a certain element of research I have to do, and often, the more laconic people are, the more interesting they become.

When I read biographies, I skip the first thirty pages about the childhood because it doesn't seem interesting to me.

We keep wanting to save those who are forlorn in this world. It’s a male habit.