As long as nothing happens anything is possible.
Hate is an automatic response to fear, for fear humiliates.
Doing nothing, badly.
One forgets so quickly one's own youth.
So much of a novelist's writing, as I have said, takes place in the unconscious: in those depths the last word is written before the first word appears on the paper. We remember details of our story, we do not invent them.
People talk about the courage of condemned men walking to the place of execution: sometimes it needs as much courage to walk with any kind of bearing towards another person's habitual misery.