I Think You Know Everything At Eight.

I Was Raised In A Very Old Fashioned Ireland Where Women Were Reared To Be Lovely.

Belief Needs Something Terrible To Make It Work, I Find--blood, Nails, A Bit Of Anguish.

People Think Motherhood Involves A Lot Of Domestic Labor, And It Doesn't. It Involves Being Nice To Your Children As Often As Possible. That's Part Of My Trick. I Don't Have That Anxiety About Meeting Their Needs.

One Of The Reasons I Write Is I Like Being Surprised

We Have Lost The Art Of Public Tenderness, These Small Gestures Of Wiping And Washing; We Have Forgotten How Abjectly The Body Welcomes A Formal Touch.