They threw me off the haytruck about noon.

You usually can tell when a writer is going down hill by the size of his liquor bill.

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

I make no conscious effort to be tough, or hard-boiled, or grim, or any of the things I am usually called.

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

If you have to do it, you can do it.

If you can't write like New York, you have no business living in New York and making New York the locale of your stories.