Sooner or later everything you thought you'd left behind comes around again. For good or ill, it comes around again.

The world had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.

Art should be a place of hope.

When you start, it's very cold, an impossible task. But then maybe the characters start to take on a little bit of life, or the story takes a turn that you don't expect ... With me that happens a lot because I don't outline, I just have a vague notion. So it's always felt like less of a made thing and more of a found thing. That's exciting. That's a thrill.

Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long. And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.

I don't want to speak too disparagingly of my generation (actually I do, we had a chance to change the world but opted for the Home Shopping Network Instead).

...you need openness and inability to do anything other than get to the point.