I think we all have a little bit of that beautiful madness that keeps us walking when everything around us is so insanely sane.

Nothing is more comical than seriousness understood as a virtue that has to precede all important literature

Human history is the sad result of each one looking out for himself.

Once in a while it happens that I vomit up a bunny... it's not reason for one to blush and isolate oneself and to walk around keeping one's mouth shut.

The short-story writer knows that he can't proceed cumulatively, that time is not his ally. His only solution is to work vertically, heading up or down in literary space.

Come sleep with me: We won't make Love,Love will make us.

I have never described this to you before, not so much, I don't think, from lack of truthfulness as that, just naturally, one is not going to explain to people at large that from time to time one vomits up a small rabbit.