I write for a certain sphere of readers in the United States who on average watch seven and a half hours of multichannel television per day.

I suppress in my prose any language which calls attention to itself.

The things I write are for those who are willing to accept a new relationship between the reader and the author.

A trait which differentiated New York from European cities was the incredible freedom and ease in which life, including sexual life, could be carried on, on many levels.

[Nabokov's] language is made visible . . . like a veil or transparent curtain. You cannot help seeing the curtain as you peek into the intimate rooms behind.

It is possible to stand around with a cocktail in one's hand and talk with everyone, which means with no one.

The principles of true art is not to portray, but to evoke.