All Of My Books Come From Pain.

I Had Dreamed Of Something So Different From What Reality Was Now Offering Up, But That Dream Had Been A Blind Man's Vision. That Dream Was A Miracle. The Morning Was Fading. And I Remembered Yet Again That I Was A Tourist Here.

...if You're Alone Nothing Bad Can Happen To You.

I Think We've All Lost Some Kind Of Feeling.

I'm Not A Big Believer In Disciplined Writers. What Does Discipline Mean? The Writer Who Forces Himself To Sit Down And Write For Seven Hours Every Day Might Be Wasting Those Seven Hours If He's Not In The Mood And Doesn't Feel The Juice. I Don't Think Discipline Equals Creativity.

Not Being Able To Find Meaning Can Be Just As Powerful As Finding Meaning.