I have periods now, like normal girls; I too am among the knowing, I too can sit out volleyball games and go to the nurse's for aspirin and waddle along the halls with a pad like a flattened rabbit ta...
I always thought eating was a ridiculous activity anyway. I'd get out of it myself if I could, though you've got to do it to stay alive, they tell me.
He has to find more and better ways of occupying his time. His time, what a bankrupt idea, as if he's been given a box of time belonging to him alone, stuffed to the brim with hours and minutes that h...
He has been trying to sing
From her handbag she takes a round gilt compact with violets on the cover. She opens it, unclosing her other self, and runs her fingertip around the corners of her mouth, left one, right one; then she...
For present purposes he’s shortened the name. He’s only Snowman. He’s kept the abominable to himself, his own secret hair shirt.
Experiences were what you got when you couldn’t get what you wanted.
A truth should exist,it should not be used
You need a certain amount of nerve to be a writer.
A voice is a human gift it should be cherished and used to utter as fully human speech as possible. Powerlessness and silence go together.
Surviving Is the only warWe can afford
If writing novels - and reading them - have any redeeming social value, it's probably that they force you to imagine what it's like to be somebody else. Which increasingly is something we all need to...
Romance takes place in the middle distance. Romance is looking in at yourself through a window clouded with dew. Romance means leaving things out: where life grunts and shuffles, romance only sighs.
The Eskimo has fifty-names for snow because it is important to them there ought to be as many for love.
Time is compressed like the fist I close on my knee... I hold inside it the clues and solutions and the power for what I must do now.
You need to give money when someone gives you a knife. So the bad luck won't cut you. I wouldn't like it for you to be cut by the bad luck, Jimmy.
You could tell a lot about a person from their fridge magnets, not that he'd thought much about them at the time.
You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.
Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon...
Why do we want other people to like us, even if we don't really care about them all that much?