Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them.

Perhaps when we're forced to forfeit what we own, we lose any sentimental associations. Perhaps pawning our valuables frees us in the same way a house fire destroys not only our worldly goods, but our attachment to what's gone.

Grade school was perilous. ... I can see how I must have worried them. I was the kind of kid who, for no apparent reason, wept piteously or threw up on myself. On an especially scary day, I sometimes did both.

I made the rules I figured I could be the one to break them. I thought I would write about xenophobia, a hatred of foreigners. After I stated writing the story there was not a foreigner to be had. I did not want to just stick one in there so I could get a title out of it since it seemed like cheating. I never figured out how I could get out of this dilemma so I just called it X and weaved X traits into the story.

My job as the writer is to fool you. Your job as the reader is to see if you can catch me at it.

My notion of an elegant table is you don't leave the knife sticking out of the mayonnaise jar.

That's the way the system works. Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you.