This was 1954, friends. The girls' dorm was off limits. Even to girls, I think.

College had little effect on me. I'd have been the same writer if I'd gone to MIT, except I'd have flunked out sooner.

Coincidence exists, but believing in it never did me any good.

I needed to find my way to write. I need about six hours of uninterrupted time in order to produce about two hours of writing, and when I accepted that and found the way to do it, then I was able to write.

This was 1954, friends. The girls' dorm was off limits. Even to girls, I think.

It's tempting to say the Ph.D. didn't have an effect, but it's not so. I think whatever resonance I may be able to achieve is in part simply from the amount of reading and learning that I acquired along the way

I have reached the point where I know that as long as I sit down to write, the ideas will come. What they will be, I don't know.