The horror of the Twentieth Century was the size of each new event, and the paucity of its reverberation.

Madness is locked beneath. It goes into tissues, is swallowed by the cells. The cells go mad. Cancer is their flag. Cancer is thegrowth of madness denied.

Murder offers the promise of vast relief. It is never unsexual.

The highest prize in a world of men is the most beautiful woman available on your arm and living there in her heart loyal to you.

So you come soon to power, but you have merely inherited the crisis and yours is the profit of cancer.

Prevarication, like honesty, is reflexive, and soon becomes a sturdy habit, as reliable as truth.

Only another writer can know how much damage writing a novel can do to you. It's an unnatural activity to sit at a desk and squeeze words out of yourself.