Book! You lie there; the fact is, you books must know your places. You’ll do to give us the bare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts.
Nothing is inanimate; what is the rest is our interpretation.
The best feeling in the world might be when you finish a book and you get to pick out another.
This is the strange life of books that you enter along as a writer, mapping an unknown territory that arises as you travel. If you succeed in the voyage, others enter after, one at a time, also alone, but in communion with your imagination, traversing your route. Books are solitudes where we meet.
I’m not trying to please anyone. I’m just trying to write a damn book.
The first sentence of every novel should be: Trust me, this will take time but there is order here, very faint, very human.
The point is, Jenna, no one is normal or perfect like that house you see across the street. Everyone suffers from their own struggles, whether they’re big or small.
Books are not made to be believed, but to be subjected to inquiry. When we consider a book, we mustn’t ask ourselves what it says but what it means…
Give a man a hoe and he is something to exploit. Give him a book and he is something to fear.
If books were girls and reading was s-ss-ssss-fucking, this would be the biggest whorehouse in the county and I’d be the most ruthless pimp you ever met. Whap the girls on the butts and send them off to their tricks as fast and often as I can.