I think if you maintain a force in the world that comes into people's sleep, you are exercising a meaningful power.

Why shouldn't the death of a person you love bring you into lurid ruin? You don't know how to love the one you love until they disappear abruptly. Then you understand how thinly distanced from their suffering, how sparing of self you often were, only rarely unguarded of heart, working your networks of give-and-take.

Not long ago, a novelist could believe he could have an effect on our consciousness of terror. Today, the men who shape and inflence human consciousness are the terrorists.

Clouds are no deterrent. Clouds intensify the drama, trap and shape the light.

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.

I was always younger than anyone around me. One day it began to change.

Perhaps we've invented conspiracies for our own psychic well-being, to heal ourselves.