The cards are stacked (quite properly, I imagine) against all professional aesthetes, and no doubt we all deserve the dark, wordy, academic deaths we all sooner or later die.

There is a marvelous peace in not publishing ... I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure.

All mothers are slightly insane.

One day a long time from now you'll cease to care anymore whom you please or what anybody has to say about you. That's when you'll finally produce the work you're capable of.

It isn't very serious, I have this tiny little tumor on the brain.

People never think anything is anything really. I'm getting goddam sick of it.

I like to be somewhere at least where you can see a few girls around once in a while, even if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses or even just giggling or something.