Anton Bruckner wrote the same symphony nine times, trying to get it just right. He failed.

Desire, said the Buddha, is the cause of suffering. But without desire, what delight?

My cousin Elroy spent seven years as an IBM taper staring at THINK signs on the walls before he finally got a good idea: He quit.

I always wanted to be a cowboy. But alas! I was burdened early with certain inescapable obligations to world literature.

I despise my own nation most. Because I know it best. Because I still love it, suffering from Hope. For me, that's patrotism.

Love implies anger. The man who is angered by nothing cares about nothing.

The ideal kitchen-sink novel: Throw in everything but the kitchen sink. Then add the kitchen sink.