When I read obituaries I always note the age of the deceased. Automatically I relate this figure to my own age. Four years to go, I think. Nine more years. Two years and I'm dead. The power of numbers is never more evident than when we use them to speculate on the time of our dying.

My attitudes aren't directed toward characters at all. I don't feel sympathetic toward some characters, unsympathetic toward others. I don't love some characters, feel contempt for others. They have attitudes; I don't.

The world isn't going to be destroyed, but you don't feel safe anymore in your plane or train or office or auditorium.

There's a connection between the advances that are made in technology and the sense of primitive fear people develop in response to it.

We commit our crimes at night and reveal ourselves in the high noon of studio lights.

We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming.

You have to break through the structure of your own stonework habit just to make yourself listen.