Literature Got Me Into This Mess And

The Thought Of The Novelist Lies Not In The Remarks Of His Characters Or Even In Their Introspection But In The Plight He Has Invented For His Characters - In The Juxtaposition Of Those Characters And In The Lifelike Ramifications Of The Ensemble They Make: Their Density, Their Substantiality, Their Lived Existence Actualized In All Its Nuanced Particulars, Is In Fact His Thought Metabolized.

I Write Fiction And I'm Told It's Autobiography, I Write Autobiography And I'm Told It's Fiction, So Since I'm So Dim And They're So Smart, Let Them Decide What It Is Or It Isn't.

Just Like Those Who Are Incurably Ill, The Aged Know Everything About Their Dying Except Exactly When.

I Don't Wish To Be A Slave Any Longer To The Stringent Exigencies Of Literature.

I Was A Biography In Constant Motion, Memory To The Marrow Of My Bones.