My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I found no place to set it down to rest. Neither the charm of the countryside nor the sweet scents of a garden could soothe it. It found no peace in song or laughter, none in the company of friends at table or in the pleasures of love, none even in books or poetry.... Where could my heart find refuge from itself? Where could I go, yet leave myself behind?

My Italian-American heritage, of which I'm very proud and with which I identify strongly, surfaces in several of my novels.

I think... the secret is to just settle for the shape of your life takes...Instead of you know, always waiting and wishing for what might make you happy.

Its the most breathtakingly ironic things about living: the fact that we are all-identical twins included-alone. Singular. And yet what we seek-what saves us-is our connection to others.

I like to be surprised. The best writing is when it defies me, when it starts going a different way than I had planned.

Love stories are probably all Ive ever been able to write or want to write.

I need to get lost and sometimes my characters lead me to places I don't expect to go.