I lead a very conventional life.

I was relying on a kind of natural transition - the transitions made by someone who is slightly deranged.

Had I been blessed with even limited access to my own mind there would have been no reason to write.

The fancy that extraterrestrial life is by definition of a higher order than our own is one that soothes all children, and many writers.

I know why we try to keep the dead alive: we try to keep them alive in order to keep them with us.

Grief, when it comes, is nothing we expect it to be. Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.

The ability to think for one's self depends upon one's mastery of the language.