I'm one of those people who doesn't really know what he thinks until he writes it down.

You are the grim, goal-oriented ones who will not believe that the joy is in the journey rather than the destination no matter how many times it has been proven to you.

So where do the ideas-the salable ideas-come from? They come from my nightmares. Not the night-time variety, as a rule, but the ones that hide just beyond the doorway that separates the conscious from the unconscious.

Resistance to change is proportional to how much the future might be altered by any given act.

Do any men grow up or do they only come of age?

I was in enough to get along with people. I was never socially inarticulate. Not a loner. And that saved my life, saved my sanity. That and the writing. But to this day I distrust anybody who thought school was a good time. Anybody.

Ninety-eight percent of what goes on in people's heads is none of their smucking business.