Cities at night, I feel, contain men who cry in their sleep and then say Nothing. It's nothing. Just sad dreams. Or something like that...Swing low in your weep ship, with your tear scans and sob probes, and you would mark them. Women--and they can be wives, lovers, gaunt muses, fat nurses, obsessions, devourers, exes, nemeses--will wake and turn to these men and ask, with female need-to-know, "What is it?" And the men will say, "Nothing. No it isn't anything really. Just sad dreams.

Every writer hopes or boldly assumes that his life is in some sense exemplary, that the particular will turn out to be universal.

All the things we value in society don't mean much in fiction.

Bullets cannot be recalled. They cannot be uninvented. But they can be taken out of the gun.

Very broadly, literature concerns itself with the internal, cinema with the external.

[On STDs] This be Nature’s way of recommending monogamy.

The Democratic Party represents the American brain, and the Republicans represent not the American heart, or soul, but the American gut. The argument between brain and bowel, everywhere else in the Free World, has been decided long ago in favor of brain. But Americans still - it still divides the nation, this question, here in America.