There Was Something Unmistakably Exultant About The

His Dreams Had Always Been Houdiniesque: They Were The Dreams Of A Pupa Struggling In Its Blind Cocoon, Mad For A Taste Of Light And Air.

I Was Thinking, Too, Of Superman And His Fortress Of Solitude.

All Novels Are Sequels; Influence Is Bliss.

I Don't Have A Problem With Many Uses Of The Word Genre, Just Certain Ones. I Have The Most Trouble When These Labels Are Used To Prevent Discussion, To Prevent A Work From Being Taken Seriously As Literature. When We Say "genre," We Generally Mean "something Crappy," Something That Would Be Sold In An Airport.

I Don’t Mean To Make A Big Deal Out Of Sobriety, By The Way. Of All The Modes Of Human Consciousness Available To The Modern Consumer I Consider It To Be The Most Overrated.