And what is 'art'? - a firestorm rushing through Time, arising from no visible source and conforming to no principles of logic or causality.

When people say there is too much violence in my books, what they are saying is there is too much reality in life.

When my brother called to inform me, on the morning of May 22, 2003, that our mother Caroline Oates had died suddenly of a stroke, it was a shock from which, in a way, I have yet to recover.

Never be ashamed of your subject, and of your passion for your subject.

We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it’s gone – its value is incontestable.

One of life's minor satisfactions is forgetting.

Writing is the most solitary of arts.