Every piece of writing... starts from what I call a grit... a sight or sound, a sentence or happening that does not pass away... but quite inexplicably lodges in the mind.
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For a dyed-in-the-wool author, nothing is as dead as a book once it is written. She is rather like a cat whose kittens have grown up.
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If books were Persian carpets, one would not look only at the outer side. because it is the stitch that makes a carpet wear, gives it its life and bloom.
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"It is My own peace I give unto you." Not, notice, the world's peace.
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The motto was "Pax," but the word was set in a circle of thorns.
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The stitch of a book is its words.
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