Listen to me. I’m shy. I’m not stupid. I can’t meet people’s eyes. I don’t know if you understand what that’s like. There’s a whole world going on around me, I’m aware of that. It’s not because I don’t want to look at you, Lucinda. It’s that I don’t want to be seen.

I suppose in a way most of my characters are non-consumers, not terribly interested in all the little baubles and artifacts of contemporary life.

When the civil rights battle was won, all the Jews and hippies and artists were middle class white people and all the blacks were still poor. Materially, not much changed.

Consensual reality is both fragile and elastic, and it heals like the skin of a bubble.

All paths lead nowhere; choose one with heart...

Every artist has limits. No one can do everything. It's impossible.

Someday I would change my name to Shut Up and save everybody a lot of time.