A very wise author once said that a writer writes for himself, and then publishes for money. I write for myself and publish just for the reader

A good smoker, like a good lover, always takes his time with a cigar.

I was never a true journalist, I was a movie critic.

I think writers rush in where everybody is very frightened to tread

I think that I've tried many times to get Cuba in my writings, especially Havana, which was once a great and fascinating city.

When I write, the first blank page, or any blank page, means nothing to me. What means something is a page that has been filled with words.

Cigars must be smoked one at a time, peaceably, with all the leisure in the world. Cigarettes are of the instant, Cigars are for eternity.

I was an avid radio fan when I was a boy, as well as a great lover of comic strips

So I do not consider myself a chronicler of my fatherland or even a chronicler of Havana

What I do believe is that there is always a relationship between writing and reading, a constant interplay between the writer on the one hand and the reader on the other

Writing for me, even what you call serious writing, is play.

Your calling is buried in your background and life experience

That's where all the trouble in life comes from. Thinking.

I always thank God for the gift of a new day, because despite the fact that I strategically prepare for the future, it is still only God that can make it possible for me to witness tomorrow.

Man wants to live, but it is useless to hope that this desire will dictate all his actions.

CinderHeart: You’re the one that changed every thing. LoinBlaze: No. This was all decided before I was born.

I was burned so many times that I stopped giving interviews. In other words, if my words ended up in print, they were twisted in an indescribable fashion.

People might think writing is a hard business, but it's nowhere near acting.

I tend to vacillate between belief systems. Right now I'm kind of checking out the whole buffet, you know, and maybe in a little while I'll decide on what I want to put on my plate and chow down on.

I love these pet names," she said, gazing soulfully up into his eyes, "Nitwit. Sap skull. Termagant. How they make my heart flutter!