The world is absolutely out of control now and is not going to be saved by any reason or unreason.

I'm sure that writing isn't a craft, that is, something for which you learn the skills and go on turning out. It must come from some deep impulse, deep inspiration. That can't be taught, it can't be what you use in teaching.

Everywhere, giant finned cars nose forward like fish; a savage servility slides by on grease.

Talking about the past is like a cat's trying to explain climbing down a ladder.

Middle Age At forty-five, What next, what next? At every corner, I meet my Father, My age, still alive.

If youth is a defect, it is one we outgrow too soon.

In the end, there is no end.