Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.

Every great or even every very good writer makes the world over according to his own specifications.

In short, everything about his life was different for him at the bottom of that well.

Something’s died in me,” she goes. “It took a long time for it to do it, but it’s dead. You’ve killed something, just like you’d took an axe to it. Everything is dirt now.

When a reader finishes a wonderful story and lays it aside, he should have to pause for a minute and collect himself.

In the beginning, when I was trying to write, I couldnt turn off the outside world to the extent that I can now.