“December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory...”

“...summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows...”

“...a little of this, a little of that - a little of me, a little of you - put it together what do you have? postmodern soup...”

“...God sometimes sends flowers -but I like it best when he darkens the sky and lights up an infinitude of worlds...”

“... here's what I believe - sometimes God has a Plan B...”

“...my novels are like life - I never know where they're going until I get to the end...”

“...there is no map of the soul because we make it up as we go...”