"Where do you get your ideas?" That's the one question I'm genuinely sick of being asked, and also genuinely fascinated by. What fascinates me is not that people ask the question, but what kind of answer are they really looking for? Because if I tell them the truth, which is "I make them up," they seem very disappointed. They want to know about the trek I do once a year to the mountain.

So," he asked. "How's death?" "Hard," she said. "It just keeps going.

On the whole, stories don't write themselves.

For love is no part of the dreamworld. Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel.

For some, it was easier to take the leap from the leafless tree and dance on nothing until dancing was done.

If people are standing up there saying, my football team just won with help from God, then obviously God just pissed over the other team.

Sometimes an old idea gets relegated to the back of the line in the mad delight of a new idea, one you've never had before, and that you write fast in the thrill of the new. No rules. Just stories, and you tell as many of them as you can.