Gertrude Stein really thought of Hemingway as frail. He almost married Stein.

Anybody in the next centuries wanting to know what it was like to be a poet in the middle of the 20th century should read Kaddish.

When all of us are forgotten, people will still be remembering Stephen King.

I think the pattern of my essays is, A funny thing happened to me on my way through Finnegans Wake.

The novel is always pop art, and the novel is always dying. That's the only way it stays alive. It does really die. I've been thinking about that a lot.

I have, I admit, a low tolerance for detached chronicling and cool analysis.

DeLillo never seems committed to me to what he is writing. Very nice surfaces, but he's got nothing underneath.