The truth is, it's not the idea, it's never the idea, it's always what you do with it.

Small children believe themselves to be gods, or some of them do, and they can only be satisfied when the rest of the world goes along with their way of seeing things.

Where does contagion end and art begin?

I don't think you should ever insult people unintentionally: if you're doing it, you ought to mean it.

It's not sipping wine. It's a mourning wine. You drain it. Like this.

When I was young, you know, the first foreign editions that would come in of anything of mine, I'd sit there and look at them as these strange and wonderful artifacts.

Fictions are merely frozen dreams, linked images with some semblance of structure. They are not to be trusted, no more than the people who create them.