The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.

Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations.

And the rest is rust and stardust.

Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.

Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that’s when you get shooting stars.

Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

The writer's job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them.

There are aphorisms that, like airplanes, stay up only while they are in motion.

I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.

Loneliness as a situation can be corrected, but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness.

The meetings and marches and vigils are cool, but if the enemy isn't present, you're just talking slick to a can of oil.

Reading is important, because if you can read, you can learn anything about everything and everything about anything.

I never enjoyed working in a film.

Art for art's sake, money for God's sake.

I don't wear diamond necklaces. I'm not against it but I never could afford it, so now I just wear gold. I wear bracelets, rings, anklets.

Every living thing is a sort of imperialist, seeking to transform as much as possible of its environment into itself.

If God is in a life, it doesn't have to be big to be happy and to be important in His kingdom.

In a country of children where the option is Santa Claus or work, what wins?

Investing in yourself is the best thing you can do. If you've got talents, no one can take them from you.

Where the Tennessee River, like a silver snake, winds her way through the clay hills of Alabama, sits high on these hills, my home town, Florence.