To really be centered and to really work well and to think about the kinds of things that I need to think about, I need to spend large amounts of time alone.

Not quite what one expected, but once it happened one realized it couldn't be any other way.

When I looked at the painting I felt the same convergence on a single point: a flickering sun-struck instance that existed now and forever. Only occasionally did I notice the chain on the finch's ankle, or think what a cruel life for a little living creature - fluttering briefly, forced always to land in the same hopeless place.

I'd been assured, at age 21 or so, by a well-known editor who saw the first part of The Secret History in what was basically its final form, that it would never be published because "no woman has ever written a successful novel from a male point of view."

It's hard for me to show work while I'm writing, because other people's comments will influence what happens.

After all, the appeal to stop being yourself, even for a little while, is very great

Criticism at the wrong time, even if it's legitimate criticism, can be seriously damaging and make the writer lose faith in what he's doing. It's the timing that's all-important.