There is no excuse for anyone to write fiction for public consumption unless he has been called to do so by the presence of a gift. It is the nature of fiction not to be good for much unless it is good in itself.

The fact is that anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. If you can't make something out of a little experience, you probably won't be able to make it out of a lot.

Her name was Maude and she drank whisky all day from a fruit jar under the counter.

You can't clobber any reader while he's looking. You divert his attention, then you clobber him and he never knows what hit him.

It's easier to bleed than sweat, Mr. Motes.

The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience.

The two worst sins of bad taste in fiction are pornography and sentimentality. One is too much sex and the other too much sentiment.