The Writer Isn't Made In A Vacuum.

If You Feel A Bump On Page One Hundred, It May Be You Went Off On Page Fifty.

I've Always Felt, As A Writer, That Radicals Are Fascinating Because They're Relations, They Have A Place In The American Family. They're The Relatives Everyone Wishes Would Go Away. They're The Embarrassments To Decorum And Good Taste.

I Lived In New York For A Couple Months. It Seemed To Me At First An Incredibly Clean Place With Well-dressed People And Washed Cars And Bright-painted Red-and-yellow Streetcars And White Buildings.

A Novelist Is A Person Who Lives In Other People's Skins.

You Can't Remember Sex. You Can Remember The Fact Of It, And Recall The Setting, And Even The Details, But The Sex Of The Sex Cannot Be Remembered, The Substantive Truth Of It, It Is By Nature Self-erasing, You Can Remember Its Anatomy And Be Left With A Judgment As To The Degree Of Your Liking Of It, But Whatever It Is As A Splurge Of Being, As A Loss, As A Charge Of The Conviction Of Love Stopping Your Heart Like Your Execution, There Is No Memory Of It In The Brain, Only The Deduction That It Happened And That Time Passed, Leaving You With A Silhouette That You Want To Fill In Again.