Like every beginner, I have thought you could beat, pummel and thrash an idea into existence. Under such treatment, of course, any decent idea folds up its paws, turns on its back, fixes its eyes on eternity, and dies.

When a man talks from his heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.

If someone sends you a love letter you've got to answer back.

A book is a loaded gun.

Write. Don't think. Relax.

A story should be like a river, flowing and never stopping, your readers passengers on a boat, whirling downstream through constantly refreshing and changing scemery.

I'm not trying to PREDICT the future. I'm just trying to PREVENT it.