Life

I’m pretty sure I’m the only author who intends to take the longest possible route to a destination that will always be over the next hill.

I smell him in intervals, in varieties, in ways I don’t quite understand.

Do you have a clear Direction of Life or are you merely floating down the river of Life like a dead fish?

When a reader falls in love with a book, it leaves its essence inside him, like radioactive fallout in an arable field, and after that there are certain crops that will no longer grow in him, while other, stranger, more fantastic growths may occasionally be prod.

Music, my rampart and my only one.

The sadness sorrow is to desire death while you have life.

The idea being that if I was so incredibly small, then I could do almost anything, because what impact would I have, really? What damage could be done, being so puny in the big scheme?

If I had a party to attend and didn't want to be there I would play the part of someone who was having a lovely time.

The light is shining on our path.

Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time folds again.

Beguiling voices in the world cry out for 'alternative lifestyles' for women. They maintain that some women are better suited for careers than for marriage and motherhood.

In Paris, everything's for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.

When a dream of dying actually becomes a chance to live... All you have to do is fall.

Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.

Today, live your life to the fullest because tomorrow is a mystery, don't enter it with regrets.

Being unheard is the ground floor of giving up, and giving up is the ground floor of doing yourself in. It’s not so much, what’s the point? It’s more like, what’s the difference?

It’s a number.”“It’s not,” she said. “It’s a chance to wake up new.

Do you think the memory of someone should dictate how we live going forward?' he asks, threading and unthreading his fingers together.'It depends,' I say. 'I think you can probably honor someone's memory, but you can't live for them, because that means living in the past.

One day this war will end. And when it does, Tule Lake will be just a memory.

Absolutely. No more pretending!