Honestly, I don't understand why people get so worked up about a little murder!

I think J.D. Salinger is correct in granting no interviews, and in making no speeches

I find the public passion for justice quite boring and artificial.

I was in New York. Hitchcock was in California. He rang me to make a report on his progress and said, I'm having trouble. I've just sacked my second screenwriter

I have no television - I hate it.

Each book is, in a sense, an argument with myself, and I would write it, whether it is ever published or not.

But there was not a moment when she did not see Carol in her mind, and all she saw, she seemed to see through Carol. That evening, the dark flat streets of New York, the tomorrow of work, the milk bottle dropped and broken in her sink, became unimportant. She flung herself on her bed and drew a line with a pencil on a piece of paper. And another line, carefully, and another. A world was born around her, like a bright forest with a million shimmering leaves.