literature is the last banquet between minds.
Kindness. The most unkind thing of all.
Ideally I'd like to spend two evenings a week talking to Proust and another conversing with the Holy Ghost.
it is not good to repudiate the dead because then they do not leave you alone, they are like dogs that bark intermittently at night.
Writing is like carrying a fetus.
We all leave one another. We die, we change - it's mostly change - we outgrow our best friends; but even if I do leave you, I will have passed on to you something of myself; you will be a different person because of knowing me; it's inescapable.