I taught writing classes at the University of Pennsylvania for a number of years and I realized that all you can do is encourage people and give them assignments and hope they will write them.

When I had a few francs, I spent them at a café on the Place de Longchamps, a block or so from my pension, where I could order a glass of Beaujolais and a plate of string beans in vinaigrette for the equivalent of fifteen cents.

Life was an impenetrable mystery cloaked in babble.

I don't like to listen to music while I'm working.

The language of labels is like paper money, issued irresponsibly, with nothing of intrinsic value behind it, that is, with no effort of the intelligence to see, to really apprehend.

Families hold each other in an iron grip of definition. One must break the grip, somehow.

I like to cook; it is, for me, a happy combination of mindlessness and purpose.