My notion of a great novel is something like a five-hundred-page shaggy-dog story, with only the punch line omitted.
How long does it take to write a good book? All of the years that you've lived.
Anton Bruckner wrote the same symphony nine times, trying to get it just right. He failed.
Anarchy works. Italy has proved it for a thousand years.
There is beauty, heartbreaking beauty, everywhere.
If there's anyone still present whom I've failed to insult . . . I apologize.