My Two Major Faults Are That I

To Be A Writer Is To Throw Away A Great Deal, Not To Be Satisfied, To Type Again, And Then Again And Once More, And Over And Over.

There, In The Tin Factory, In The First Moment Of The Atomic Age, A Human Being Was Crushed By Books.

The Final Test Of A Work Of Art Is Not Whether It Has Beauty, But Whether It Has Power.

What Has Kept The World Safe From The Bomb Since 1945 Has Not Been Deterrence, In The Sense Of Fear Of Specific Weapons, So Much As It's Been Memory. The Memory Of What Happened At Hiroshima.

When The Writing Is Really Working, I Think There Is Something Like Dreaming Going On. I Don't Know How To Draw The Line Between The Conscious Management Of What You're Doing And This State. . . . I Would Say That It's Related To Daydreaming. When I Feel Really Engaged With A Passage, I Become So Lost In It That I'm Unaware Of My Real Surroundings, Totally Involved In The Pictures And Sounds That That Passage Evokes.