I thought about how love was always the thing that did that - smashed into you, left you raw. The deeper you loved, the deeper it hurt.

However far fiction writers stray from their own lives and experiences - and I stray pretty far from mine - I think, ultimately, that we may be writing what we need to write in some way, albeit unconsciously.

Fiction writing is a strange business when you think about it. You sit down and weave a network of lies to explore deeper truths.

So many bad things have happened to them that they can't trust the good things. They have to shove them away before someone can get it back.

The roundness of life's design may be a sign that there is a presence beyond ourselves.

Love is like breathing, you take it in and let it out.

If you want your prayers answered, get up off your knees and do something about them.