For me writing is a question of finding a certain rhythm. I compare it to the rhythms of jazz.

For me writing is a question of finding a certain rhythm. I compare it to the rhythms of jazz.

Jazz music is an intensified feeling of nonchalance.

A Strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of it's complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.

If you treat life well, life is usually good to you. And I love life. There's a long-standing affair between us.

I recognize limitations in the sense that I've read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky and Shakespeare . . . Aside from that I don't think of limiting myself.

Usually I avoided college students, whom I considered brutal, wrapped up in themselves, particularly in their youth, in which they found material for drama or an excuse for their own boredom. I did not care for young people.