A man without words is a man without thought.

Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there's time, the Bastard Time.

Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.

It was too nerve-wracking, a shocking spectacle, like seeing an old, calm friend go insane.

It is possible, even probable, to be told a truth about a place, to accept it, to know it and at the same time not to know anything about it.

Guy don't need no sense to be a nice fella. Seems to me sometimes it jus' works the other way around. Take a real smart guy and he ain't hardly ever a nice fella.

The curious hocus-pocus of criticism I can't take seriously. It consists in squirreling up some odd phrases and then waiting for a book to come running by.