I'm Forty-nine But I Could Be Twenty-five

Can You Imagine A Writer In England Influencing? Absolutely Not. And In France? It Used To Be, But No More-absolutely Not. France Used To, At Least, Have Writers As Diplomats, But Not Any More.

Perhaps There Is No Other Way Of Reaching Some Understanding Of Being Than Through Art? Writers Themselves Don't Analyze What They Do; To Analyze Would Be To Look Down While Crossing A Canyon On A Tightrope. To Say This Is Not To Mystify The Process Of Writing But To Make An Image Out Of The Intense Inner Concentration The Writer Must Have To Cross The Chasms Of The Aleatory And Make Them The Word's Own, As An Explorer Plants A Flag.

Peace. The Upland Serenity Of High Altitude, The Openness Of Grassland Without Indigenous Bush Or Trees; The Greening, Yellowing Or Silver-browning That Prevailed, According To Season.

Fiction Is A Way Of Exploring Possibilities Present But Undreamt Of In The Living Of A Single Life.

Power Is Something Of Which I Am Convinced There Is No Innocence This Side Of The Womb.