I've never given up. I've always kept going. I don't feel that I could afford to give up. That would be the beginning of the end.

Running! If there's any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can't think what it might be. In running the mind flies with the body; the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain, in rhythm with our feet and the swinging of our arms.

I was brought up to be sympathetic toward others.

Novels begin, not on the page, but in meditation and day-dreaming - In thinking, not writing.

I have so many favorite writers, it's very hard to select a few... of classic writers, I have always admired Emily Dickinson and Henry David Thoreau.

What does it mean to be born? After we die, will it be the same thing as it was before we were born? Or a different kind of nothingness? Because there might be knowledge then. Memory.

I learned long ago that being Lewis Carroll was infinitely more exciting than being Alice.