We were like wanderers in a desert, blessed with a rare downpour, but unable to store the rain.

I like to take certain aspects of genre fiction and modify them in my own way. ‘Your Republic Is Calling You’ follows the form of a spy novel, but it leads readers into a world...

Fiction is Truth’s elder sister. Obviously. No one in the world knew what truth was till some one had told a story.

whatever beauty she thought she might have possessed she realized had only been through her husband’s assessment of her

Almost all heroism is designed to make you inert by placing it in a context that you can’t possibly act on.

The Taellywood treasure beckoned us. All of us ached for God’s wisdom. We had so many questions. We wanted to know why things happened the way they did. We needed to know. We desired the...

My eyes refuse to let him leave, but he stands still holding my hand, lingering for as long as possible.

Light has a voice?” Sarucha inquired, amazed.

I was at ease in everything, to be sure, but at the same time satisfied with nothing. Each joy made me desire another. I went from festivity to festivity. On occasion I danced for nights...

I’d always hated cocktail parties. And this one was worse than most. Overdressed pseudo–people smiled plastic smiles, told one–upmanship stories with phony self–deprecation, then half–listened with painted–on sincerity to the one–upmanship rebuttals. Mannequins. Robots. Androids....

The writer’s only responsibility is to his art. He will be completely ruthless if he is a good one. He has a dream. It anguishes him so much he must get rid of it. He...

So Janie waited a bloom time, and a green time and an orange time. But when the pollen again gilded the sun and sifted down on the world she began to stand around the gate...

Fiction is as easy as telling a convincing lie. The more believable the better the story.

We’d stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You’d think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn’t.

My spirit has been around far longer than my soul–I’ve lived several lifetimes already. And one this novel has been written, I will have lived several more.

Artists are dishonest creatures really. They foist their version of reality upon us while making it all up. Writers, painters, musicians, auteurs—they’re all the same.

The best historical stories capture the modern imagination because they are, in many senses, still current – part of a continuum.

I long for some connection, to the real and those who love them, and hope that my fiction can reach beyond the veil, that I might touch someone and make them feel something…or something.

He now realized that right and wrong were intertwined notions. His arms could not differentiate between just and unjust causes. They only knew that they were empty.

He’s probably somewhere right now eating a Big-N-Tasty. The man has a coffee pot, a microwave, AND a mini refrigerator in his classrooom. If you plan on having a conversation with him, I suggest you...

I couldn’t write—or wouldn’t write, at any rate—unable to face the grueling self-scrutiny that fiction demands

I was so drunk I couldn’t tell a vagina from a bullet hole

English. That was where I met him.

You look good, Clearwater. Been working out?’ Danie teased. ‘He does, doesn’t he?’Janelle agreed. ‘This will totally work.’James’ eyes darted back and forth between the girls, his head spinning. ‘Wait, what will work?

The characters are copyrighted. It upsets me terribly to even think about fan fiction with my characters.

A fiction writer is nothing more than the ambassador of an alternative world of their own design. Their success dwells in how many people their work entices to relocate

Wherever you are lacking, your obedience in working on that before your mate comes is vital.

… Because the writer resented that she had turned to me I became the handsome and dazed narrator, incapable of love or kindness. That’s how I became the damaged party boy who wandered through the...

Am I your weakness?””Of course you are.

A man once asked me … how I managed in my books to write such natural conversation between men when they were by themselves. Was I, by any chance, a member of a large, mixed...

You know who you are you just have to believe it.

There is something in us, as storytellers and as listeners to stories, that demands the redemptive act, that demands that what falls at least be offered the chance to be restored. The reader of today...

She must have been very anxious about a first boy friend to fall in love with a Colgate boy

Losing maturity in one’s fiction for the sake of marvels and monsters can also mean losing propriety, and that’s not always a bad thing.

See, the institutions and specialist, experts, you see. Yes, yes,experts, indeed. See, they would have us believe that there is an orderto art. An explanation. Humans are odd creatures in that way. Alwayssearching for a...

Certamente era um homem que possuía muitas qualidades, mesmo que fossem quase todas ruins.

a true leader must be able to command with an iron fist, not just a humble heart.

Dream big!

In Woolrich’s crime fiction there is a gradual development from pulp to noir. The earlier a story, the more likely it stresses pulp elements: one-dimensional macho protagonists, preposterous methods of murder, hordes of cardboard gangsters,...

I love the newspaper. I love reading fiction.

Meredith immersed herself in the novels. For some reason, fiction hit on the meaning of life so much more concisely than real life itself did.

Before he went away, he had heard all about the self-made girl, and there was something in the picture that strongly impressed him. She was possible doutbless only in America; American life had smoothed the...

Dies iral, dies illaSolvet Saeclum in FavillaTeste David cum SilyllaThat Day of Wrath, that day of burningSeer and Sibly speak concerningAll the world to ashes turning

Is there a house up there? You’re not a sylph or something that really does live wild, are you?

Exactly. When is comes to anything halfway important, you just don’t get it. It’s amazing to me that you can put a piece of fiction together”Yeah, well, that’s a whole different thing.'(from Honey Pie)

Of the two, I would think of my work as closer to Science Fiction than Fantasy.

Miz Ellen, what do you carry in that handbag of yours that has enough wallop to knock down a full-grown man? – Dan Landry

Let them Teach,Let them learn,let them pray,for the world is theirs.

We can’t breathe batteryacid, can we?

God, there must be a meaning. Fiercely he was certain that there must be a meaning.Surely, while we live we are not lost.Oh Janos, Janos my brother!Surely we are not lost–while we live.