When I went to Hong Kong, I knew at once I wanted to write a story set there.
You can't write about a friend, you can only write about a former friend.
My love for traveling to islands amounts to a pathological condition known as nesomania, an obsession with islands. This craze seems reasonable to me, because islands are small self-contained worlds that can help us understand larger ones.
Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace.
Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.
Is there any point in going across the world to eat something or buy something or watch people squatting among their ruins? Travel is a state of mind. It has nothing to do with distance or the exotic. It is almost entirely an inner experience.