I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork.

It is the final proof of God's omnipotence that he need not exist in order to save us.

What baffles me is the comfort people find in the idea that somebody dealt this mess. Blind and meaningless chance seems to me so much more congenial - or at least less horrible. Prove to me that there is a God and I will really begin to despair.

Try the Lamentations of Jeremiah. They always pick me up.

Man is vile, I know, but people are wonderful.

When I can no longer bear to think of the victims of broken homes, I begin to think of the victims of intact ones.

How do you expect mankind to be happy in pairs when it is miserable separately?