Slice a pear and you will find that its flesh is incandescent white. It glows with inner light. Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark.
War subjects itself to transportation in a way that we find acceptable.
Despair was a heavy blackness that let no light in or out. It was a hell beyond expression. I thank God it always passed.
My greatest wish – other than salvation – was to have a book.
I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape.
If you write genre fiction, you follow the rules, and you have to follow them because readers expect that.
There’s no peace like the peace of an inner courtyard on a sunny day.
To me, the research is a way of exploring what it means to be alive.
If you stumble at mere believability, what are you living for? Isn’t love hard to believe?
I love Canada. It’s a wonderful political act of faith that exists atop a breathtakingly beautiful land.
Why make dirty what is beautiful, spoil what is perfect? Love.
The language of prose is very different than the language of cinema, so the movie has to successfully translate what was in the book.
Much hostile and aggressive behaviour among animals is the expression of social insecurity.
Fiction and nonfiction are not so easily divided. Fiction may not be real, but it’s true; it goes beyond the garland of facts to get to emotional and psychological truths.
Most of us get our history through story.
Everything was screaming: the sea, the wind, my heart.
The idea of a flip book still really appeals to me. That idea of fiction and non-fiction.
Christianity stretches back through the ages, but in essence it exists only at one time: right now.
My next book – each one while I’m working on it – dances in my mind and thrills me at every turn. If it didn’t, why would I write it?
It is pointless to say that this or that night was the worst of my life. I have so many bad nights to choose from that I’ve made none the champion.