At home, I dedicate occasional whole days to reading as if I'm a convalescent. The ideal place for this is the bath, where the body floats free. Books go a little wavy, but they're mine, so who cares.

When one is the type of writer who cares about the meaning of the historically specific setting, the history itself is not something that I would call backdrop. It's not window dressing for a timeless relationship about love and betrayal. For me, the setting and the specific history are active co-agents with me in trying to form the novel.

Smartphones. Who cares? Smartphones. I only have dummy phones.

Who cares if you bunt for a base hit?

It was a big story and yesterday's soup. Who cares?

Who cares about winning? We should focus on serving.