Without craft, art remains private. Without art, craft is merely hackwork.

The mere passage of time makes us all exiles.

Look at the world and see what's there. It's very beautiful. It's a very exciting but in some ways treacherous world, and all this goes into the writing.

Ultimately, we measure ourselves against our own ideas of idealism and perfection, and we don't always come very close to them.

The greatest works of literature seem to embody both "art" and "morality".

Honorary degrees and lifetime achievement awards are very encouraging. I know that it might sound strange that a writer who has published many books still needs encouragement, but this is true.

All that matters in life is forging deep ties of love and family and friends. Writing and reading come later.