As a writer I have persisted in my uncertainty, alternating between novels which could charitably be considered literature and world reporting which by another stretch of objective standards might be called history.

You don't fight to protect warships or old men. Like the book says, you fight to save your civilization. And so often it seems that civilization is composed mainly of the things women and children want.

If a young aspirant had a modicum of skill and a busy typewriter she or he would sooner or later get a foothold in one of the magazines and a leaping start on the ladder upward.

The really great writers are people like Emily Brontë who sit in a room and write out of their limited experience and unlimited imagination.

I'm not a very good writer, but I'm an excellent rewriter.

I was brought up in the great tradition of the late nineteenth century: that a writer never complains, never explains and never disdains.

It was the silent time before dawn, along the shores of what had been one of the most beautiful lakes in southern Africa.