Everything I've ever done, in the writing world, has been to expand articulation, rather than to close it.

I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer - its dust and lowering skies.

If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.

The function of freedom is to free someone else.

Don’t beg anybody for anything, especially love.

There is no such thing as race. None. There is just a human race - scientifically, anthropologically. Racism is a construct, a social construct... it has a social function, racism.

There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.

If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.

In times of dread, artists must never choose to remain silent.

All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.

Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more than represent the limits of knowledge; it limits knowledge.

He was trying to fit this Herakles onto the one he knew.

Her father kneels and unclasps the urn. Above the waves she falls graceful as snow, my sister, my Sonora.

One hour's sleep before midnight is worth three after.

My life here is perfect and I'm happy at Real Madrid so, of course, I want to stay as long as I can.

It's never perfect when I write it down the first time, or the second time, or the fifth time. But it always gets better as I go over it and over it.

Pity, unlike hate, can be boxed and put away.

Home is where you feel unjudged, and where what I do isn't necessarily stupid or wrong.

We don't have enough young, female antiheroes. We don't accept women as antiheroes the way we do the men.

Tonight's December thirty-first, something is about to burst. The clock is crouching, dark and small, like a time bomb in the hall. Hark, it's midnight, children dear. Duck! Here comes another year!

There is so little that one can do for the dead!