I am re-reading Henry James as a change from history. I began with Daisy Miller, and I've just finished Washington Square. What a brilliant, painful book.

People in my books tend to get their just deserts, even if not at the hands of the police.

Ninety-seven is my lucky number.

I love hearing details of writers' craft, as cannibals eat the brains of clever men to get cleverer.

I realize that I had always in my heart of hearts planned to write a biography of Marie Antoinette.

That is my major concern: writers who are in prison for writing.

My mother, who was quite sharp when I was young, became utterly mild.