What I say is, a town isn't a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it's got a bookstore it knows it's not fooling a soul.

Hunchbacks danced at my wedding for luck. It's a thing you don't see nowadays.

If writing a novel is a year's exile to a foreign country, writing a short story is a weekend spent somewhere exotic. They're much more like vacations, more exciting and different, and you're off.

For some folks death is release, and for others death is an abomination, a terrible thing. But in the end, I'm there for all of them.

There are people who think that things that happen in fiction do not really happen. These people are wrong.

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

I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn't that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you. I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me. And then she stopped walking. Under the moon, she stopped. And looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. She probably didn't even know I was there. But I'll always love her. All my life.