If everybody was so reverent of the institute of marriage, how did all the adultery get committed?

I'm a child in that respect: able to live, physically speaking, on a crumb of anticipation for weeks at a time, but always in danger of crushing the waited-for event with the freight of my excessive hope.

I don't write books for people to be friends with the characters. If you want to find friends, go to a cocktail party.

It's hard to resist the magical thinking that the work habits of great writers are the key to their greatness.

Always mind the distance between your dreams and your reality.

It's similar to the way you feel cuddling an infant or a kitten, when you want to squeeze it so hard you'd kill it.

...what is romance, but a mutual pact of delusion? When the pact ends , there's nothing left.