I used bravado to protect myself when we lived in poverty.
The excuse, of course, was that men had to support families.
I recoil from the certitude that religion can give a person; it’s horrific.
I didn’t know I would be any good. But I knew I wanted to be a poet.
It was a horrible place because it wasn’t exactly horrible.
When I walked in, the kids applauded. They were like, “The poet’s back!”
Whether or not I’m working on the book, the book is working on me.
Jayne Anne Phillips recalls her friend, the legendary Sam Lawrence.
I’ve wavered in confidence, but never on whether I was going to write.
Love is the difference between a full life and an empty one.
One of the most important human capacities is compassion.
What can go heartbreakingly wrong, and what would you do?
You quickly find nothing interests people so much as themselves.
Sex can be revelatory. Essential nature emerges in sex.
I love talking to girls. That’s why I’ve written so much about them.
Art doesn’t conform to a capitalist’s ratio of productivity to time.
How does he do it? I’ve been trying to figure this out for the past decade.
I loved David, but I loved another character more: James Steerforth.
I once heard in a sermon, “Choose the important over the urgent.”
The Great Gatsby had an awful, detrimental effect on me.
This is kind of a big, wet valentine, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you throw it out?
“The Sentry” taught me that all true laughter has tears behind it.
I’m obsessed with finding a convertible that has enough room.
I know now not to measure my insides against others’ outsides.
I’m a big fan of then. A novel needs a lot of thens.
A friend of my father’s once told me, “You’ll never be a writer.”
I’ve found that love has provided my life’s happiest moments.
Try never to repeat rhymes, not once in an entire show. It tires the ear.