My language limitations here are real. My vocabulary is adequate for writing notes and keeping journals but absolutely useless for an active moral life. If I really knew this language, there would surely be in my head, as there is in Webster's or the Dictionary of American Slang, that unreducible verb designed to tell a person like me what to do next.

I read a lot. I liked a tremendous number of poets and writers. The person whose work I liked the most was Joyce.

I'm really sorry for people growing up right now, because they have some cockeyed idea that they can get by with their eyes closed; the cane they're tapping is money, and that won't take them in the right direction.

Art's too long and life's too short.

If I miss anything, it's being able to hang out in the city of New York meeting people and talking to them on the corner.

You become a writer because you need to become a writer - nothing else.

My job is to get people to write something truthful, something about truth and beauty - wherever they are - and to understand how literature is made. And then if they become great writers, that's great, and probably has nothing to do with me.