I could be a vegan in sackcloth and flip-flops, but I find fabulous boots with periwinkle cuffs a far preferable option.
I'm wonderfully self-lacerating, probably to my character's detriment. I'm terribly open to critique.
Anything processed by memory is fiction.
Everything I write, I believe instinctively, is to some extent collage. Meaning, ultimately, is a matter of adjacent data.
My medium is prose, not the novel.
I don’t know what’s the matter with me, why I’m so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.
A book should either allow us to escape existence or teach us how to endure it.
I think, oddly, that the world of the amateur is quite self-contained, and it depends on "likes" from other amateurs to perpetuate itself. Of course an awful lot of my colleagues are involved with Instagram - they get likes and dislikes, maybe just likes, I don't know - but I think that it's far less self-contained, the world I work in. It goes off in different directions, and is dependent on responses different from a tick or a like or whatever.
He looks like he needs worming.
The real test that I believe that God is love is that tragedies don't separate me from the conviction that God is love.
For peace do not hope; to be just you must break it. Still work for the minute and not for the year.