I do think that in the near future, if it hasn't happened already, people will be able to use technology to design their own novels, perhaps with individuals themselves as the main character. In other words, everything is being individualized and narrowed.

In this century the writer has carried on a conversation with madness. We might almost say of the twentieth-century writer that he aspires to madness. Some have made it, of course, and they hold special places in our regard. To a writer, madness is a final distillation of self, a final editing down. It's the drowning out of false voices.

He said, "The word for moonlight is moonlight.

I understand there are some men who are only half here. Let's not say men. Let's say people. People who are more or less obscure at times.

There's always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down.

I don’t want your candor. I want your soul in a silver thimble.

Isn't death the boundary we need? Doesn't it give a precious texture to life, a sense of definition? You have to ask yourself whether anything you do in this life would have beauty and meaning without the knowledge you carry of a final line, a border or limit.