Jesus watches from the wall, But his face is cold as stone, And if he loves me As she tells me Why do I feel so all alone?

Panic is highly contagious, especially in situations when nothing is known and everything is in flux.

Like anything else that happens on its own, the act of writing is beyond currency. Money is great stuff to have, but when it comes to the act of creation, the best thing is not to think of money too much. It constipates the whole process.

The important question has nothing to do with whether the talk in your story is sacred or profane; the only question is how it rings on the page and in your ear. If you expect it to ring true, then you must talk yourself. Even more important, you must shut up and listen to others talk.

Remember, Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

I was in enough to get along with people. I was never socially inarticulate. Not a loner. And that saved my life, saved my sanity. That and the writing. But to this day I distrust anybody who thought school was a good time. Anybody.

The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows