There may be a parallel between woodcuts and radio; radio plays are a living art form everywhere except the USA.

He would go somewhere no one knew him, and he would sit in a library all day and read books and listen to people breathing.

Leave no path untaken.

She sat down on one of her grandmother's uncomfortable armchairs, and the cat sprang up into her lap and made itself comfortable. The light that came through the picture window was daylight, real golden late-afternoon daylight, not a white mist light. The sky was a robin's-egg blue, and Coraline could see trees and, beyond the trees, green hills, which faded on the horizon into purples and grays. The sky had never seemed so sky, the world had never seemed so world ... Nothing, she thought, had ever been so interesting.

None of us exist in a world that is the same world that any of the rest of us live in. The world that's important is the world behind each of our eyes, which is something that none of the rest of us can access.

I remembered something somebody had once said to me. It's okay. Everyday is freshly ground.

It's a wonderful thing, as a writer, to be given parameters and walls and barriers.