The creative act is not pure. History evidences it. Ideology demands it. Society exacts it.

In a certain sense a writer is 'selected' by his subject - his subject being the consciousness of his own era.

A truly living human being cannot remain neutral.

Exile as a mode of genius no longer exists; in place of Joyce we have the fragments of work appearing in Index on Censorship.

The creative act is not pure. History evidences it. Ideology demands it. Society exacts it.

Communists are the last optimists.

Writing is making sense of life. You work your whole life and perhaps you've made sense of one small area.