If you were mean to your parents, they'd give you a good belt in the gob and send you flying across the room.

I say, Billy, what’s the use in playing croquet when you’re doomed? He says, Frankie, what’s the use of not playing croquet when you’re doomed?

Sit and quiet yourself. Luxuriate in a certain memory and the details will come. Let the images flow. You'll be amazed at what will come out on paper. I'm still learning what it is about the past that I want to write. I don't worry about it. It will emerge. It will insist on being told.

Happiness is hard to recall. Its just a glow.

I just have to proceed as usual. No matter what happens, nothing helps with the writing of the next book.

I've been writing in notebooks for 40 years or so.

You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.