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The best writers talk a story the way they put it down on the page.

Revision is not a sanction to get the head and the will involved.

Be honest. Writing is about honesty, and articulating that honesty.

Be honest. Writing is about honesty, and articulating that honesty.

It’s wrong to say the lightning is pink is nothing other than to say it’s not.

“A book is an ax,” Franz Kafka once said, “for the frozen sea within.”

A goddam mean big sonofabitch boar rooted me in the stomach.

What can go heartbreakingly wrong, and what would you do?

The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.

“I love you” is always a quotation. You did not say it first.

Nothing happened to him? Why, genius had happened to him!

You quickly find nothing interests people so much as themselves.

If you’re not having fun, then there isn’t a big impetus to stay alive.

There are certain defects which well mounted glitter like virtue itself.

A letter is like a poem, showing the marks of an unwilling composer.

“What would Toby do?” is a question that often appears in my mind.

The future of the book began to appear among imaginary woods.

They’re still there since they never grew old. The story is never finished.

It’s been a rainy, relatively windless fall, the aspen leaves clinging.

I don’t own a smartphone and never will. I’ve never sent a text.

Try never to repeat rhymes, not once in an entire show. It tires the ear.

“The Sentry” taught me that all true laughter has tears behind it.

Best part of the day? The part when I come up with an idea for a cartoon.

I like to think of love as something that one should keep feeding, like a fire.

It helped me free myself from a longtime source of unhappiness.

“Nobody asked you to write.” Over time, I realized it was a magic key.

I’ve read this novel at various stages of my life and I feel as if I know Isabel.

It’s best for my heart to have hours and hours each day to write.

This is kind of a big, wet valentine, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you throw it out?