No, that is the great fallacy: the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful.

Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter's honor.

I kept this to remind me of you trying to brush away the Villa Rossa from your teeth in the morning, swearing and eating aspirin and cursing harlots. Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush.

To be able to say: I loved this person, we had a hell of a nice time together, it's over but in a way it will never be over and I do know that I for sure loved this person, to be able to say that and mean it, that's rare. That's rare and valuable.

Don't you like to write letters? I do because it's such a swell way to keep from working and yet feel you've done something.

I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?

There is no left and right in writing. There is only good and bad writing.