What my children appear to be on the surface is no matter to me. I am fooled neither by gracious manners nor by bad manners. I am interested in what is truly beneath each kind of manners...I want my children to be people- each one separate- each one special- each one a pleasant and exciting variation of all the others

In the most commonplace, tiresome, ridiculous, malicious, coarse, crude, or even crooked people or events I had to seek out rare things, good things, comic things, and I did so.

But who can speak to God, or rather who can't? The question is, who can get an answer?

The mad also laugh, or is that what Freud and the others discovered perhaps, that only the mad laugh?

Every man is correct in asking God why he is stuck with himself, and his rotten luck.

I don't have a name and I don't have a plot. I have the typewriter and I have white paper and I have me, and that should add up to a novel.

We are not forced into unpleasant activities. We either allow them to come about or we encourage them to come about.