My attraction to story is a ceaseless current that runs through the center of me. My inexhaustible ardor for reading seems connected to my hunger for storylines that show up in both books and in the great tumbling chaos of life.

Men are prisoners of their genitalia and women are the keepers of the keys to paradise.

Love's action. It isn't talk and it never has been.

These are the quicksilver moments of my childhood I cannot remember entirely. Irresistible and emblematic, I can recall them only in fragments and shivers of the heart.

The most powerful words in English are, 'Tell me a story.'

But even her demons she invested with inordinate beauty, consecrated them with the dignity of her attention.

Happiness is an accident of nature, a beautiful and flawless aberration.