Whatever is not an energy source, is an energy sink.

It is not sex that gives the pleasure, but the lover.

I am my mother's daughter,... I am her only novel.

I think that if you use something from you life in fiction, it metamorphosizes into something strange and different. Afterward it is hard to tell what actually was part of your life and what is part of the story of the fictional character.

There are obviously a great many ways to organize some fraction of the material in a life.

The anger of the weak never goes away, Professor, it just gets a little moldy. It molds like a beautiful blue cheese in the dark, growing stronger, and more interesting. The poor and the weak die with all their anger intact and probably those angers go on growing in the dark of the grave like the hair and the nails.

The will to be totally rational is the will to be made out of glass and steel: and to use others as if they were glass and steel.