As you grow older, you'll find that you enjoy talking to strangers far more than to your friends.

One is always enthralled, I think, when a young writer you're just beginning to read and comprehend dies.

Why does the writer write? The writer writes to serve--hopeless ly he writes in the hope that he might serve--not himself and not others, but that great cold elemental grace that knows us.

One writes to find words' meanings.

The story knows itself better than the writer does at some point, knows what's being said before the writer figures out how to say it.

I think the writer has to be responsible to signs and dreams. If you don't do anything with it, you lose it.

Nothing the writer can do is ever enough.