And Father said, “There are no happy endings.” “Right!” cried Iowa Bob – an odd mixture of exuberance and stoicism in his cracked voice. “Death is horrible, final, and frequently premature,” Coach Bob declared. “So what?” my father said. “Right!” cried Iowa Bob. “That’s the point: So what?” Thus the family maxim was that an unhappy ending did not undermine a rich and energetic life. This was based on the belief that there were no happy endings.

Maybe television causes cancer, Garp thinks; but his real irritation is a writer's irritation: he knows that wherever the TV glows, there sits someone who isn't reading.

Adolescence-is it the first time in life we discover that we have something terrible to hide from those who love us?

A novel is a piece of architecture. It's not random wallowings or confessional diaries. It's a building-it has to have walls and floors and the bathrooms have to work.

Nothing moves at the Hotel New Hampshire! We're screwed down here-for life!

But I often think that so-called glamorous people are just very busy people.

I've always been slow but I'm even slower now. I'm more into the waiting, or I guess I'm more patient about the waiting.