Fairy tales and folk tales have always played a role in my writing in one way or another.

I began writing The Cold Song in the months following my fathers death, when I felt this sense of loss, disappearance, of being right in the middle of life and wondering: What now? How to proceed?

When you're not writing, you're not doing anything else either because everything you do goes into the writing.

Never let success get to your head and never let failure get to your heart.

maybe somebody finally shot the dog.

...sometimes when you are lost for direction, you are open to a new way of seeing.

I like a girl with natural beauty.

So man, who here seems principal alone, Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal; 'Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.

Let each of us examine his thoughts

We cannot be afraid of the dark that they live in.

I very rarely listen to music in my car - a lot of people make fun of me for it. But sometimes I listen to music on YouTube. I'm like a teenager.

One last toast, to our friend, Owen Hart. We'll never forget you, buddy.

Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.