The fictional work is a kind of actor that wears a satirical garb but can put on other costumes as well.

It is not that sport, over-indulged in, coarsens the mind; it is that it dulls it.

What more chilling indictment of the modern world is there than this: that the condition of the smartphone user is that of a dumb animal. Moooo!

I think it's a misreading of Dostoevsky to think of him as a programmatic theist. He's actually much closer to someone like William James. He's actually a pragmatist.

I prefer to write first drafts as soon as possible after waking, so that the oneiric inscape is still present to me.

Lives don't divide up into chapters. People don't just talk, while nothing's going on in their head, and then respond. You know, none of these things actually happen.

The novelist, quite rightly, fears the psychoanalyst as both an enemy and a usurper.