My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.

Isn't it a shame military doctors couldn't be as good as military sunglasses?

I only hope to do well enough before I die to have a house as big as my rich Uncle Ed and Aunt Carole.

He was one of those rare men who are capable of being fully in love only once in their lives.

I've always believed that dreams were both the love letters and the hate mail of the subconscious.

Without music, life is a journey through a desert.

...when the words pour out of you just right, you understand that these sentences are all part of a river flowing out of your own distant, hidden ranges, and all words become the dissolving snow that feeds your mountain streams forever. The language locks itself in the icy slopes of our own high passes, and it is up to us, the writers, to melt the glaciers within us. When these glaciers break off, we get to call them novels, the changelings of our burning spirits, our life's work.