There is always shame in the creation of an expressive work, whether it's a book or a clay pot. Every artist worries about how they will be seen by others through their work. When you create, you aspire to do justice to yourself, to remake yourself, and there is always the fear that you will expose the very thing that you hoped to transform.

You could time a suburban story by your watch: it lasts as long as it takes a small furry animal that's lonely to find friends, or a small furry animal that's lost to find its parents; it lasts as long as a quick avowal of love; it lasts precisely as long as the average parent is disposed on a Tuesday night to spend reading aloud to children.

My children are living, thinking human beings. It isn't in my power to regret them, for they belong to themselves.

Honest criticism, I suppose, has its place. But honest writing is infinitely more valuable.

Divorce also entails the beginning of a supposition that that familial reality might have obstructed one's ability to perceive others.

The British have always made terrible parents.

A neighbor is something that belongs to the stable world of home life, the thing that lives next door to you.