A writer can't subtract or excise any of his/her past because doing so would erase the work produced during that time.

A lot of widows feel that they have betrayed their spouse by continuing to live. It's deranged thinking. I know that, but that doesn't stop you feeling it.

Death is just the last scene of the last act.

Language is the instrument in all cases and can language be trusted?If it were not for language, could we lie?

I can entertain the proposition that life is a metaphor for boxing--for one of those bouts that go on and on, round following round, jabs, missed punches, clinches, nothing determined, again the bell and again and you and your opponent so evenly matched it's impossible not to see that your opponent is you.... Life is like boxing in many unsettling respects. But boxing is only like boxing.

People might be surprised to know how much I throw away. For every page I publish, I throw 10 pages away.

The folly of war is that it can have no natural end except in the extinction an entire people.