Did you ever, in that wonderland wilderness of adolesence [sic] ever, quite unexpectedly, see something, a dusk sky, a wild bird, a landscape, so exquisite terror touched you at the bone? And you are afraid, terribly afraid the smallest movement, a leaf, say, turning in the wind, will shatter all? That is, I think, the way love is, or should be: one lives in beautiful terror.

Well, I'm about as tall as a shotgun, and just as noisy.

Imagination, of course, can open any door - turn the key and let terror walk right in.

I'm not a philosopher.

I think most people are very, very much motivated by sex - greed, sex, and hunger.

When I am writing, I try to do it five hours a day but I spend about two of those just fooling around.

Past certain ages or certain wisdoms it is very difficult to look with wonder; it is best done when one is a child; after that, and if you are lucky, you will find a bridge of childhood and walk across it.