People always tell me either A. you love him. B. you hate him. My usual answer? C. All of the above.

Sometimes what we call love is just a settling of old scores, or a seeking of forbidden pain, or a circuitous path to the kingdom of cruelty, or she may simply have confused lack of capital with heroism while searching for rescue without knowing from what.

You really can't say things that upset someone in print and expect them to be nice and leave you their money. That's just not reasonable.

What other people think of me is not really my major concern in life. What other people think of what I write is another matter.

Reader, you forget that economics precedes religion; worship grew out of eating, not the other way around.

Many writers do write about their families and their immediate loved ones and love experiences, either as children or as adults. And very often people get offended by it.

If I were planning to be stranded on a desert island, I wouldn't take Freud's books with me, because I've already read them all.