I couldn't be sufficiently interested in human beings to be a writer if I had contempt for human beings.

Nothing fades so quickly as what is unchanged.

I have learned since that sometimes the things we want most are impossible for us. You may long to come home, yet wander forever.

I'm a candle flame that sways in currents of air you can't see. You need to be the one who steadies me to burn.

I never talk about what I'm writing about currently, never. It's private work on your own, no need or obligation to talk about it. Writers are made into performers these days, including myself, but there are some instances in which I will not perform.

The primacy of the word, basis of the human psyche, that has in our age been used for mind-bending persuasion and brain-washing pulp, disgraced by Gobbles and debased by advertising copy, remains a force for freedom that flies out between all bars.

What is the purpose of writing? For me personally, it is really to explain the mystery of life, and the mystery of life includes, of course, the personal, the political, the forces that make us what we are while there's another force from inside battling to make us something else.