Paintings. Or the collapse of time in images.

You can't ever approach a book as a complete virgin, certainly not if you're a critic. There is a lot of bad faith out there. That's why I finally trained myself not to look at this stuff anymore, because it doesn't do me any good to see myself either praised or attacked.

I never would have thought of that word, "hospitality." I settle into the rhythm of my steps.

For me a paragraph in a novel is a bit like a line in a poem. It has its own shape, its own music, its own integrity.

What matters is not how well you can avoid trouble, but how you cope with trouble when it comes.

We have missed him in the sunshine, in the storm, in the twilight, ever since.

Paintings. Or the collapse of time in images.