My working habits are simple: long periods of thinking, short periods of writing.

How simple the writing of literature would be if it were only necessary to write in another way what has been well written. It is because we have had such great writers in the past that a writer is driven far out past where he can go, out to where no one can help him.

I have a rotten habit of picturing the bedroom scenes of my friends.

If every one said orders were impossible to carry out when they were received where would you be? Where would we all be if you just said, "Impossible," when orders came?

Never mistake motive for action.

Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.

The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.