live your life as if you may lose everything.

If you want to be happy for life, love what you do.

A library is a path to the future--find yours there.

When someone is mean to me, I just make them a victim in my next book.

Even though it was six o'clock, there was no sense of approaching dawn.

Funny, when you finally faced reality, it was amazing how clearly you could see things.

Approach your lives as if they were novels, with their own heroes, villains, red herrings, and triumphs.

Writing is storytelling. No matter how you slice it, you're saying, 'Once upon a time.' That's what writing is all about.

I certainly understand very much what it's (like when) an expense comes up and you're trying to figure out how to pay for it.

The flame of inspiration needs to be encouraged. Put a glass around that small candle and protect it from discouragement or ridicule.

The truth is I hate cocktail parties when the only person I know is my supposed date, and he abandons me the minute we come in the door.

I am a natural optimist but there were times when (it seemed like) I was doing nothing but adding up on the back of envelope what I had to pay this month.

Happines is like mercury. Hard to hold, and when we drop it, it shatters into a million pieces. Maybe the bravest of all are those who have the courage to reach for it again.

As a writer, you paint strokes and leave suggestions so readers can create their own pictures. That allows you to know someone by a small action and it saves countless pages of explanation.

The first four months of writing the book, my mental image is scratching with my hands through granite. My other image is pushing a train up the mountain, and it's icy, and I'm in bare feet.

When a scientist's son or daughter becomes a scientist they'll say "Wonderful! Wonderful!" So, why, in the name of God, would a mother be jealous to see her daughter become a successful writer?

It's funny how, even long after you've accepted the grief of losing someone you love and truly have gotten on with your life, every once in a while something comes up that plays "gotcha," and for a moment or two the scar tissue separates and the wound is raw again.

A common question asked of writers is "When did you decide to become a writer?" The answer, of course, is that we didn't decide anything. It was decided for us. I firmly believe that mythical godmothers make appearances at our cradles, and bestow their gifts. The godmother who might have blessed me with a singing voice did not show up; the goddess of dance was nowhere in sight; the chef-to-the-angels was otherwise engaged. Only one made the journey to my cradle, and she whispered, "You will be a storyteller."

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