O.K." "Gee I'm glad." "Me too. I'm so sick of hot dogs and beer and apple pie with cheese on the side I could heave it all in the river." "You'll love it, Frank. We'll get a place up in the mountains, where it's cool, and then, after I get my act ready, we can go all over the world with it. Go as we please, do as we please, and have plenty of money to spend. Have you got a little bit of gypsy in you?" "Gypsy? I had rings in my ears when I was born.

A guitar has moonlight in it.

Writing a novel is like working on foreign policy. There are problems to be solved. It's not all inspirational.

That's all it takes, one drop of fear to curdle love into hate.

I had killed a man, for money and a woman. I didn't have the money and I didn't have the woman.

A home is not a museum. It doesn't have to be furnished with Picasso paintings, or Sheraton suites, or Oriental rugs, or Chinese pottery. But it does have to be furnished with things that mean something to you.

I write of the wish that comes true--for some reason, a terrifying thought.