In 1957, I decided: write or perish.

Being somebody: it's one of the ideas in life, no? That's what my father made clear to me. The importance of being somebody. He wanted to be somebody. And he underlined to me the fate of trying to be somebody and not quite managing to do it.

The dreams are the skeleton of all reality.

I like to write about certain things that if they are not written about are not going to exist.

But that isn't my life. I have said many times I don't want to be considered one who once flew fighters. That's not who I am. I devoted the subsequent 50 years - more - to writing.

God is the God of the people who are at their wits end, who are right up against it with their backs to the wall, and He delights to come to our help when we need Him most.

Sometimes you are aware when your great moments are happening, and sometimes they rise from the past. Perhaps it's the same with people.