Characters begin as voices, then gain presence by being viewed in others' eyes. Characters define one another in dramatic contexts. It is often very exciting, when characters meet - out of their encounters, unanticipated stories can spring.

Long ago I'd said that I am "fascinated by the phantasmagoria of human personality" - this is perhaps even truer now than years ago.

There is nothing "ordinary" about reality.

I think what distresses me most in my life is that I have so many ideas I consider exciting ideas that I will never live to execute because it takes me so long to execute.

Ideas brush past fleeting and insubstantial as moths. But I let them go, I don't want them. What I want is a voice.

A writer’s life is in his work, and that is the place to find him.

How does the poet transform his banal thoughts (are not most thoughts banal?) into such stunning forms, into beauty?