My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.

I didn't move. I've learned from years of experience that dogs and falcons and ladies come back to you if you stay where you are.

I find that when I come out of the library I'm in what I call the library bliss of being totally taken away from the distractions of life.

Don't write about what you know - write about what you're interested in. Don't write about yourself - you aren't as interesting as you think.

You're so calm and quiet, you never say. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes.

I have consistently loved books that I've read when I've been sick in bed.

Normally book ideas come to me in a moment.