Do we tend to recall the most important parts of a novel or those that speak most directly to us, the truest lines or the flashiest ones?

I'm a complete democrat in terms of who buys my books.

What happiness is there in just the memory of happiness?

What is the easiest, the most comfortable thing for a writer to do? To congratulate the society in which he lives: to admire its biceps, applaud its progress, tease it endearingly about its follies.

Pride makes us long for a solution to things – a solution, a purpose, a final cause; but the better telescopes become, the more stars appear.

And no, it wasn't shame I now felt, or guilt, but something rarer in my life and stronger than both: remorse. A feeling which is more complicated, curdled, and primeval. Whose chief characteristic is that nothing can be done about it: too much time has passed, too much damage has been done, for amends to be made.

I don't believe in God, but I miss him.