You've got to be able to look at your thoughts on paper and discover what a fool you were.

I was not predicting the future, I was trying to prevent it.

This afternoon, burn down the house. Tomorrow, pour critical water upon the simmering coals. Time enough to think and cut and rewrite tomorrow. But today-explode-f ly-apart-disint egrate! The other six or seven drafts are going to be pure torture. So why not enjoy the first draft, in the hope that your joy will seek and find others in the world who, by reading your story, will catch fire, too?

If you're reluctant to weep, you won't live a full and complete life.

You're either in love with what you do, or you're not in love.

These are all novels, all about people that never existed, the people that read them it makes them unhappy with their own lives. Makes them want to live in other ways they can never really be.

Without libraries what have we? We have no past and no future.