Self-consciousness is the enemy of all art, be it acting, writing, painting, or living itself, which is the greatest art of all.

I'm not really dying today. No person ever died that had a family. I'll be around a long time. A thousand years from now, a whole township of my offspring will be biting sour apples in the gumwood shade.

Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.

And some days, he went on, were days of hearing every trump and trill of the universe. Some days were good for tasting and some for touching. And some days were good for all the senses at once. This day now, he nodded, smelled as if a great and nameless orchard had grown up overnight beyond the hills to fill the entire visible land with its warm freshness. The air felt like rain, but there were no clouds.

All of my writing is God-given.

Don't think about things, just do them; don't predict them, just make them.

And suddenly everything, absolutely everything, was there.