A dead dog is more quiet than a house on the steppes, a chair in a empty room.

I worked in a bookstore in Oslo, importing the English-language books.

I remember a lot of dreams. Sometimes they are hard to distinguish from what has really happened. That is not so terrible. It is the same with books.

If I just concentrate I can walk into memory's store and find the right shelf with the right film and disappear into it.

A lot can change because you are embarrassed by something.

I write about families. That is who we are.

Time is important to me now, I tell myself.Not that it should pass quickly or slowly, but only be time, be something I live inside and fill with physical things and activities that I can divide it up by. so that it grows distict to me and does not vanish when I am not looking.