Out of Dostoevsky: Kafka. Out of Tolstoy: Margaret Mitchell. (in conversation, explaining his dislike for Tolstoy)

What's happening in Russia is devoid of autobiographical interest for me. Maybe it's egocentric. Whatever it is, feel free to use it.

I got caught up in the proletariat the way Marx describes it.

Russian talk of political evil is as natural as eating.

If they had wanted to punish me, they should have kept me in a communal apartment. Then I would have become a wreck.

After all, it is hard to master both life and work equally well. So if you are bound to fake one of them, it had better be life.

Bad literature is a form of treason.