You know, they ask me if I were on a desert island and I knew nobody would ever see what I wrote, would I go on writing. My answer is most emphatically yes. I would go on writing for company. Because I'm creating an imaginary - it's always imaginary - world in which I would like to live.

Thinking is not enough. Nothing is. There is no final enough of wisdom, experience — any f...ing thing.

I miss you so much your absence causes me, at times, accute pain. I don't mean sexually. I mean in connection with my writing.

Time is what death needs to grow people in.

There's a boy across the river with an ass like a peach; alas I was no swimmer and lost my Clementine.

The exact objectives of Islam Inc. are obscure. Needless to say everyone involved has a different angle, and they all intend to cross each other up somewhere along the line.

I read Mailer's Ancient Evenings with great interest because I was interested in . . . the seven souls structure, which was very helpful to me in Western Lands. And also in Place of Dead Roads. So that's Mailer.