Before pop art, there was such a thing as bad taste. Now there's kitsch, schlock, camp, and porn.
It frequently happens that I begin a novel with just a visual image of something, a vague sense of people in three dimensional space.
You live in a tower that soars to heaven and goes unpunished by God.
All human existence is a trick of light.
What terrorists gain, novelists lose.
The less important you are in an office, the more they expect the happy smile.