In almost everything I've written there is a thread of this: man's seemingly palpable need to dislike someone other than himself.

This highway leads to the shadowy tip of reality: you're on a through route to the land of the different, the bizarre, the unexplainable...Go as far as you like on this road. Its limits are only those of mind itself. Ladies and Gentlemen, you're entering the wondrous dimension of imagination. . . Next stop The Twilight Zone.

It may be said with a degree of assurance that not everything that meets the eye is as it appears.

I find it very difficult to live through the censorship of profanity on television.

I don't think it's man's function to write. I don't think it's a normal thing like teeth-brushing and going to the bathroom. It's a supered position on the animal.

When I dig back through memory cells, I get one particularly distinctive feeling-and that's one of warmth, comfort and well-being. For whatever else I may have had, or lost, or will find-I've still got a hometown. This, nobody's gonna take away from me.

I'd rather go along with this sense of illusion that I'm a neutral beast going along through life doing everything that's preordained.