The Best Antidote I Have Found Is

Something's Your Vocation If It Keeps Making More Of You.

During The Act Of Writing I Have Told Myself Something That I Didn't Know I Knew.

I Work Continuously Within The Shadow Of Failure. For Every Novel That Makes It To My Publisher's Desk, There Are At Least Five Or Six That Died On The Way. And Even With The Ones I Do Finish, I Think Of All The Ways They Might Have Been Better.

If There Is Such A Thing As Sin In This World, I Think It Must Be Shutting Oneself Up Against Hope.

I Confess, Right At The Start, To The Doubts - And Sometimes Outright Dreads - That Go With Me As I Climb The Stairs To My Study In The Morning, Coffee Mug In Hand: I Have To Admit To The Habitual Apprehension Mixed With A Sort Of Reverence, As I Light The Incense . . . And Wonder: What Is Going To Happen Today? Will Anything Happen? Will The Angel Come Today?