But complex people are never certain that they are not crooks, never certain their passports are quite in order, and are, therefore, unnerved by the slightest thing.

Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.

Education is not so important as people think.

I know that I have in my make-up layers of synthetic experiences, and that the most powerful of my memories are only half true.

Often when I write I am trying to make words do the work of line and color. I have the painter's sensitivity to light. Much of my writing is verbal painting.

When one is a child, the disposition of objects, tables and chairs and doors, seems part of the natural order: a house-move lets in chaos - as it does for a dog.

For people who live on expectations, to face up to their realization is something of an ordeal.