That's My Only Defense Against This World:

I Had Let My Digust With Teaching Ruin My Love Of Literature.

Wherever We Go We Do Harm, Forgiving Ourselves As Wheels Do Cement For Wearing Each Other Out. We Set This House On Fire, Forgetting That We Live Within. (from "to A Meadowlark," For M.l. Smoker)

I Asked A French Critic A Couple Of Years Ago Why My Books Did So Well In France. He Said It Was Because In My Novels People Both Act And Think. I Got A Kick Out Of That.

The Days Are Stacked Against What We Think We Are.

Success And Money Can Really Be Quite Blinding.