As for himself, however hateful life was, it was hateful in a home and not in the gutter. Many Americans hated their homes. The number of homeless in America couldn't touch the number of Americans who had homes and families and hated the whole thing.

Each book starts from ashes really. I don't feel that I have this to say or that to say or this story to tell or that story to tell, but I want to be occupied with the writing process while I'm living.

A life of writing books is a trying adventure in which you cannot find out where you are unless you lose your way.

Nothing lasts and yet nothing passes either, and nothing passes just because nothing lasts.

Literature takes a habit of mind that has disappeared. It requires silence, some form of isolation, and sustained concentration in the presence of an enigmatic thing.

There were many hours when I never quite know how I'd gotten there or why I stayed.

How Far back must we go to discover the beginning of trouble?