It seems we are capable of immense love and loyalty, and as capable of deceit and atrocity. It's probably this shocking ambivalence that makes us unique.

I have a backlog of novels which I would love to be working on and would be working on if I were not obliged to hold down a full time job.

We've invested millions of dollars in tourism. Now they're trying to industrialize and pollute the ocean. It doesn't make any sense to me at all.

Until you see the cross as that which is done _by_ you, you will never appreciate that it is done _for_ you.

My work is known by too few people for me to be remembered as a writer - that is, beyond those dedicated souls (bless them) who have followed the oeuvre through its various stages. To be realistic, when they and the last of my friends have died, I doubt I shall be remembered at all.

These days - with the decline of the traditional churches - I'm concerned about where we obtain some form of moral direction.

I don't see myself as experimenting in any conscious way, it's perhaps that certain books require different densities of language.