I wish I’d a knowed more people. I would of loved ‘em all. If I’d a knowed more, I would a loved more

My first-born. All I can remember of her is how she loved the burned bottom of bread. Can you beat that? Eight children and that's all I remember.

We're all surrounded by what I call faux language, fake language of commerce, of news media.

Sometimes what I write on the page frightens me, so I feel free when I write, but I don't feel safe.

If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.

I know that my books are worthy, which is separate from me.

And wouldn't you know he'd be a singing man.