Each evening she held his head in her hands and ran her aching fingers thru the thick ruff of fur around his neck. He burrowed against her, sighing devotion.

She frowned at him. 'You are in love with solitude.''Is there a better cure for the world than solitude?

Tell me your story and I will get back your life.

I have more to say than Hemingway, and God knows, I say it better than Faulkner.

When I see a story, I ask: is this something I'd like to be in? Is this something I'd like to see? And if I'd like to see it, would I like to tell it?

Alliance does not mean love, any more than war means hate

If everything on earth were rational, nothing would happen.

Society certainly encourages women to be victims in every way. I mean if we want approval, we have to sing the blues, even as singers we sing the blues.

On the Internet, everyone is writing. There is a great flowering of writing.

Charlotte's Web Life is magic, the way nature works seems to be quite magical.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to." "I don't much care where –" "Then it doesn't matter which way you go.

Stillness is where creativity and solutions are found.