I had the epiphany that laughter was light, and light was laughter, and that this was the secret of the universe.

Actually, I enjoy the process of writing a big long novel.

I guess that anything we manage to save from history is a miracle.

That life - whatever else it is - is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open. And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch.

But romantic vision can also lead one away from certain very hard, ugly truths about life that are important to know.

There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty-unless she is wed to something more meaningful-is always superficial

Still when I lost her, I lost sight of any landmark that might have led me someplace happier, to some more populated or congenial life.