The first thing you lose when you die is your motor skills.

It gets kind of zen after awhile, life is a journey, time is a river, the door is ajar.

Schopenhauer wrote that to desire immortality is to desire the eternal perpetuation of a great mistake. He was correct.

My heart started racing, not the bad kind of heart racing, like I’m going to die. But the good kind of heart racing, like, Hello, can I help you with something? If not, please step...

But Pierre had been born with a shrewdness that made him early aware that a failure to believe that human events were ordered by a higher power was regarded by many in the highest positions...

Remember Whose You Are.

I have no inner life. I have no ‘intimate’ life. I am just what I-what to do. I move from one habitation to another like one of those-is it herit crabs? Taking up residence in...

The woman turns away; one wing blackens like an onyx gem while the other glows white like a bright spotlight. She flies into the sky, leaving the crowd staring in astonishment. Angels fly away in...

I felt a lot better; not being alone in being alone.

That the stars guide us, but do not compel us. It is our free will that determines the outcome of all things. God does impose his will on us, rather he makes it known and...

In real life I do violence, but for psychic stuff I do other things better.

We invent fictions in order to live somehow the many lives we would like to lead when we barely have one at our disposal.

A force de peindre la vie des autres, il avait oublié de peindre la sienne.”On ne se tue pas pour une femme (2000)

It’s a ballad, Alf, and to be honest, it’s one of the slowest songs I can think of. You’d have been better off doing a slow waltz to something with that tempo. The other factor...

Her heart was telling her to trust him, but it wouldn’t be the first time that that foolish muscle, there in the middle of her chest, had betrayed her.

We live in a world where there is such a clear definition of what a girl should be that it takes almost no effort at all to completely hate ourselves.

If you’re a ghost,” he said, “we mean you no disrespect. And if you’re not a ghost, tell me who you are-or you soon will be one

…we haven’t had any accidents for months now…Everything on that island is perfectly fine.

Maybe he thinks he can rescue me? No one is that stupid.

And to see the white flash of Klaus’s eyes as he whirled on her. For one stunned instant she stared at him, and then lightning crackled.From an empty sky.

Or you just might say that destiny finally caught up with me.

Amateur detectives in fiction had always annoyed Ella. They were so unrealistic. She didn’t intend to be the Rabbit Back version of Miss Marple or a cheap Baker Street knock-off, and she really didn’t like...

I am also an author. Please check out my novel, A Life Worth Dreaming About.

What was justice, after all, but a particular outcome?

Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings –

L shot Maki a disappointed look. But soon he forgot everything when Misa Amane appeared onstage. Enraptured he began to cheer with the girls in black lace and frilly skirts.

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.”Goethe

For me, stories are like WD-40 for the brain: they keep all the wheels and gears and clicky-things running smoothly. Without them, cognitive function becomes a bore.

My new story collection won’t please everyone, nor was it meant to. Then again, not everybody lives in my world. If they did, I’d have to move out and find another world to write about.

Being an author, writing a book was great fun. Publishing and marketing, not so fun.

Pastor McFucking Bride this . . . Pastor McFucking Bride that. Fuck him!

It is completely raw, the sort of thing I feel free to do with the door shut—it’s the story undressed, standing up in nothing but its socks and undershorts.

Thanks to Dashiell Hammett. “He was thin, walked with a stick, and was the only private dick I knew who used the pockets of his sport coat. Maybe that means something, maybe not.” Ramone Ramone,...

A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.

It was only much later that he was made flesh and blood [in the Gospels] on paper. Thus Christ was created as a literary creation.

I wasn’t sure what was worse: being oblivious or living within reality. (Eric)

My whore of a brother has done it again.” “Then, as always, orders me to clean up the mess.” “I think I hate him.” Poseidon to his brother, Zeus.

If a woman chooses to support her husband and become First Lady, I believe she must do so with the understanding that the public expects the full-meal deal.

All our ancient history, as one of our wits remarked, is no more than accepted fiction.

That’s the fashion. Fast as the speed of light, they say. Ha! It’s got no soul, sir, no heart.

Reading fiction is important. It is a vital means of imagining a life other than our own, which in turn makes us more empathetic beings. Following complex story lines stretches our brains beyond the 140...

The masses-I love em-they rush for red lights, risking everything to capture a few seconds, only to get home and waste their lives.

He(Prophet Muhammad) was Caesar and Pope in one; but he was Pope without Pope’s pretensions, Caesar without the legions of Caesar: without a standing army, without a bodyguard, without a palace, without a fixed revenue;...

Fantasy leaves imaginations larger than it finds them.

One is almost tempted to say… at last I can almost see a bond. But that will never be, for a bond does not really exist at all: it is a most convenient fiction which,...

I was its skin, its movement, its shape, its god, its creator, its destroyer. And you thought Dexter was bad. The Bridgeman arrives soon.

Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there’s little fun to be had in explanations; they’re antithetical to the poetry of fear.” In a horror story, the victim keeps asking why – but there can be...

Isn’t antimatter what fuels the U.S.S.Enterprise?

Walking out into the night with a water fey was all kinds of stupid. Heck, Kelpies eat people. They may not play with their food as creatively as the Each Uisge, but dead is dead.

A play is fiction – and fiction is fact distilled into truth.