What a man does defiles him, not what is done by others.

The greatest pleasure is not - say - sex or geometry. It is just understanding. And if you can get people to understand their own humanity - well, that's the job of the writer.

We're all mad, the whole damned race. We're wrapped in illusions, delusions, confusions about the penetrability of partitions, we're all mad and in solitary confinement.

They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate.

I hope my books make statements about our general condition.

But forgiveness must not only be given but received also.

Honestly, I haven't the time to read contemporary writers. I know this is awful, but in the main it is true.