Only sometimes you can't feel anything about a subject without hypothesizing its extinction.

When you are sixteen you do not know what your parents know, or much of what they understand, and less of what's in their hearts. This can save you from becoming an adult too early, save your life from becoming only theirs lived over again--which is a loss. But to shield yourself--as I didn't do--seems to be an even greater error, since what's lost is the truth of your parents' life and what you should think about it, and beyond that, how you should estimate the world you are about to live in.

The thing about being a writer is that you never have to ask, 'Am I doing something that's worthwhile?' Because even if you fail at it, you know that it's worth doing.

I have a theory... that someplace at the heart of most compelling stories is something that doesn't make sense.

Writing never came naturally and I still have to force my hand to do it.

Fear and hope are alike underneath.

The ways in which things are superficially similar but also distinct is interesting to me.