Getting the first draft finished is like pushing a peanut with your nose across a very dirty floor.

Much of my writing is energized by unresolved memories - something like ghosts in the psychological sense.

Our enemy is by tradition our savior, in preventing us from superficiality.

And so you must grant to God what is God and not try to think of what you have lost, for that way is madness.

You cultivate the subconscious by meditation, by sitting in silence and by not trying to control your thoughts. Then go someplace where you haven't been before, or go for a walk, a run, and look for signs of grace-an epiphany, something that comes to you.

Where there must be a choice, a girl will choose Daddy. Even if you are Mommy, you concede that this must be so: you remember when you were a girl, too.

The suicide does not play the game, does not observe the rules. He leaves the party too soon, and leaves the other guests painfully uncomfortable.