Very often I'll find out at the end of a book what I put in at the beginning. A sort of process of elimination and discovery in one.

The first great real intimacy between two people begins when secrets are told.

The only question that nobody ever asks is: What breaks your heart? I think that should be asked of all "artists."... So, what breaks your heart?

Sometimes it is the smallest thing that saves us: the weather growing cold, a child's smile, and a cup of excellent coffee.

Reading a book, for me at least, is like traveling in someone else's world. If it's a good book, then you feel comfortable and yet anxious to see what's going to happen to you there, what'll be around the next corner. But if it's a lousy book, then it's like going through Secaucus, New Jersey -- it smells and you wish you weren't there, but since you've started the trip, you roll up the windows and breathe through your mouth until you're done.

I have never heard anyone say This is it. I know right now is the high point of my life. It will never get any better. Only in retrospect do we recognize the best times and of course then it is too late.

It's always fun to walk down the street with or behind a really beautiful woman, for no reason other than to see how the world reacts to them.