Light changes, our eyes blink and see the world from the slightest difference of perspective and our place in it has changed.

And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it.

He smelled cold water and cold intrepid green. Those early flowers smelled like cold water. Their fragrance was not the still perfume of high summer; it was the smell of cold, raw green.

I worry that if whatever pops into your head at any instant immediately goes online, you lose the crucial time for your thoughts to simmer and evolve and build up nuance, depth and empathy.

Light changes, our eyes blink and see the world from the slightest difference of perspective and our place in it has changed.

If you want to be a writer, you write. Everybody wants to get published. You gotta play your long game.

Don't confine truth to fact. Imaginative truth is as powerful, and often enough, more so than fact.