The complicated futility of ignorance.
I guess everybody who isn't dead yet is a survivor.
No art is possible without a dance with death.
When a man becomes a writer, I think he takes on a sacred obligation to produce beauty and enlighenment and comfort at top speed
Life happens too fast for you ever to think about it. If you could just persuade people of this, but they insist on amassing information.
This is what i find most encouraging about the writing trades: they allow mediocre people who are patient and industrious to revise their stupidity, to edit themselves into something like intelligence. They also allow lunatics to seem saner than sane.