I Would Like To Carve My Novel

Trotsky Rises To Give Me His Hand, Then Sits At His Desk, Gently Allowing His Regard To Light On My Person.

I Have Always Tried To Write In A Simple Way, Using Down-to-earth And Not Abstract Words.

A Novelist Is A Man Who Doesn't Like His Mother.

I Have Made Love To Ten Thousand Women.

If Each One Of Us Could Make Just One Other Happy, The Whole World Would Know Happiness.