For Me, The Poetry In A Work

We're Swallowed Up Only When We Are Willing For It To Happen.

The Novel Moves Like All The Arts. It's Transforming Itself All The Time.

I Have Never Sought The Reason Why I Write.

I Don't Admire Freud As Much As Some People Do. Imagine Shakespeare Being Aware Of The Oedipal Complex When He Wrote Hamlet. It Would Have Been A Disaster.

Those Who Live In A World Of Human Beings Can Only Retrace Their Steps.