[My work] is a love song to our mongrel selves.
It matters, it always matters, to name rubbish as rubbish; that to do otherwise is to legitimize it.
Home has become such a scattered, damaged, various concept in our present travails. There is so much to yearn for. There are so few rainbows any more.
All names mean something.
If Woody Allen were a Muslim, he'd be dead by now.
American literature has always been immigrant.