writing is the loneliest job in the world. There's always that frustrating chasm to bridge between the concept and the writing of it. We're a harassed tribe, we writers.

It would be a fallacy to deduce that the slow writer necessarily comes up with superior work. There seems to be scant relationshipbetween prolificness and quality.

I would rather regret what I have done than what I have not.

Luscious feet that listened to the soil and stole its secrets.

There is no adequate definition for creative writing, any more than it is possible to describe pain or flavor or color.

The grand canyon which yawns between the writer's concept of what he wants to capture in words and what comes through is a cruel abyss.

Life owes me a living worth living. Yes, Eden regarded life as her debtor, she its relentless paymaster.