Her days come and go like birds, her dreams like days.

The futility of action does not absolve one from the failure to act. -

The world is crammed with messages. We’ll never have time to read them all.

We inherit plots. There are only two or three in the world, five or six at most. We ride them like treadmills.

It often seems to me that the biggest single issue for a writer is how to stay buoyant enough to go on writing. How not to drown.

There is always a gap between conception and execution. We keep writing in the burning hope of closing that gap before we die.

There are all kinds of under-represented groups in the literary establishment.

If you know one thing very well and the rest only superficially, that one thing will always appear to be more 'unique.

I learn by going where I have to go.

Aspects are within us and who seems most kingly is king.

She's a writer. The kind of writer who wouldn't be published outside. She believes that when one deals with words, one deals with the mind.

That the sweetly intoxicating three-four rhythm which took hold of hand & foot, necessarily eclipsed great & serious music & made the audience unfit for any intellectual effort goes without saying.

I've only done one shoot where it's modeling clothes, not like me in my environment. And the stylist, literally, I had her stand behind the photographer and do poses.

The beauty of my sport is that you can do it from anywhere.

Every problem contains the seed of it's own solution.

Lessons, however, that enter the soul against its will never grow roots and will never be preserved inside it.

Instead of trying to see things my way, I try to see things her [wife's] way, and if it honestly makes sense then I will submit to her instead of being a tyrant and a dictator.