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.

If you look at life one way, there is always cause for alarm.

If a theme or idea is too near the surface, the novel becomes simply a tract illustrating an idea.

Plot is the knowing of destination.

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

without fiction, either life would be insufficient or the winds from the north would blow too cold.

whenever possible I avoid talking. Reprieve from talking is my idea of a holiday. At risk of seeming unsociable, which I am, I admit I love to be left in a beatific trance, when I am in one. Friendly Romans recognize that wish.