I Did Not Choose Solitude.

[on Her And Husband Michael Dorris:] We Both Have Title Collections. I Think A Title Is Like A Magnet. It Begins To Draw These Scraps Of Experience Or Conversation Or Memory To It. Eventually, It Collects A Book.

What Happens When You Let An Unsatisfactory Present Go On Long Enough? It Becomes Your Entire History.

It Kills Your Writing If You Try To Manipulate It With Crude Politics.

Time Is The Water In Which We Live, And We Breathe It Like Fish. ... Time Pours Into Us And Then Pours Out Again. In Between The Two Pourings We Live Our Destiny.

Ravens Are The Birds I'll Miss Most When I Die. If Only The Darkness Into Which We Must Look Were Composed Of The Black Light Of Their Limber Intelligence. If Only We Did Not Have To Die At All. Instead, Become Ravens.