I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about the journalists; we can only hope that they will die off as the deerflies do towards the end of August.

Is love supposed to ruin you? It seems to me you shouldn't destroy yourself out of life for purposes of love--or what good is it?

"What do women want?" "They eat green salad and drink human blood."

How could I be anything but a dissenter? Who wants the opinion of a group?

A man must have limits and cannot give in to the wild desires to be everything and everyone and everything to everyone.

Everybody knows there is no fineness or accuracy of suppression; if you hold down one thing, you hold down the adjoining.

A writer is in the broadest sense a spokesman of his community. Through him that community comes to know its heart. Without such knowledge, how long can it survive?