I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what I’d like people to hear.

A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.

The smooth stones you pick up and examine under the moon's light have been made blue from the sea. Next morning when you pull them from your trouser pocket, they are still blue.

there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.

My circumstances of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction necessitated the short story form.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

Booze takes a lot of time and effort if you're going to do a good job with it.