The idea of a flip book still really appeals to me. That idea of fiction and non-fiction.

Books, like people, can't be reduced to the cost of the materials with which they were made. Books, like people, become unique and precious once you get to know them.

Why do people move? What makes them uproot and leave everything they've known for a great unknown beyond the horizon? ... The answer is the same the world over: people move in the hope of a better life.

I have nothing to say of my working life, only that a tie is a noose, and inverted though it is, it will hang a man nonetheless if he's not careful.

The blackness would stir and eventually go away, and God would remain, a shining point of light in my heart. I would go on loving.

I think art comes from some sense of discomfort with the world, some sense of not quite fitting with it.

Life is a peephole, a single tiny entry onto a vastness--how can I not dwell on this brief, cramped view of things? This peephole is all I've got!