There is no shame — having a dirty face — the shame comes when you keep it dirty.

Actually, I think friendship and love are exactly the same thing.

Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.

There’s got to be something wrong with us. To do what we did.

I don't use a typewriter, I write longhand, with a pencil. Essentially I'm a horizontal writer. I think better when I'm lying down.

Of course people couldn't help but think I must be a bit of a dyke myself. And of course I am. Everyone is: a bit. So what? That never discouraged a man yet, in fact it seems to goad them on.

The enemy was anyone who was someone he wanted to be or who had anything he wanted to have.