In the desert the most loved waters, like a lover's name, are carried blue in your hands, enter your throat. One swallows absence.

You want to suggest something new, but at the same time, resolve the drama of the action in the novel.

When we are young we do not look into mirrors. It is when we are old, concerned with our name, our legend, what our lives will mean to the future. We become vain with the names we own, our claims to have been the first eyes, the strongest army, the cleverest merchant. It is when he is old that Narcissus wants a graven image of himself.

...the heart is an organ of fire.

We are expanded by tears, we are told, not reduced by them.

People don't write about kids; you have to give them a lot of freedom, and that causes anarchy and that causes farce.

Moments before sleep are when she feels most alive, leaping across fragments of the day, bringing each moment into the bed with her like a child with schoolbooks and pencils. The day seems to have no order until these times, which are like a ledger for her, her body full of stories and situations.