Are there any writers on the literary scene whom I consider truly great? Yes: Truman Capote.
There is no shame — having a dirty face — the shame comes when you keep it dirty.
Before birth; yes, what time was it then? A time like now, and when they were dead, it would be still like now: these trees, that sky, this earth, those acorn seeds, sun and wind, all the same, while they, with dust-turned hearts, change only.
Mick Jagger is about as sexy as a pissing toad.
Oh Jesus God we did belong to each other. He was mine.
Most contemporary novelists, especially the American and the French, are too subjective, mesmerized by private demons; theyre enraptured by their navels and confined by a view that ends with their own toes.