You don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.

Wonder. Go on and wonder.

It wasn't until the Nobel Prize that they really thawed out. They couldn't understand my books, but they could understand $30,000.

She was bored. She loved, had capacity to love, for love, to give and accept love. Only she tried twice and failed twice to find somebody not just strong enough to deserve it, earn it, match it, but even brave enough to accept it.

If I had not existed, someone else would have written me, Hemingway, Dostoyevsky, all of us.

He was looking at her from behind the smiling that wasn't smiling but was something you were not supposed to see beyond.

I decline to accept the end of man.