I am the victim of a fortunate series of accidents.

When I write, I feel like an armless, legless man with a crayon in his mouth.

Those who believe in telekinetics, raise my hand.

Pretend to be good always and even God will be fooled.

For a Russian to be chivalrous with an American is a spiritual impossibility, a conradiction in terms.

Incidentally, I am honorary president of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the great science fiction writer and biochemist Dr. Isaac Asimov. John Updike, who is religious, says I talk more about God than any seminarian. Socialism is, in fact, a form of Christianity, people wishing to imitate Christ.

The master of ceremonies asked people to say what they thought the function of the novel might be in modern society, and one critic said, “To provide touches of color in rooms with all-white walls.” Another one said, “To describe blow-jobs artistically.