If The Novel Is Dying, I See

The Hunger Of The Spirit For Eternity - As Fierce As A Starving Man's For Bread - Is Much Less A Craving To Go On Living Than A Craving For Redemption. Oh, And A Protest Against Absurdity.

The Least Stupid Question A Man Asks In His Lifetime Is Not: Is There A God And Is He A God Or A Devil? But: Brother, Why Are You Killing Me?

No Form Of Art Repeats Or Imitates Successfully All That Can Be Said By Another; The Writer Conveys His Experience Of Life Along A Channel Of Communication Closed To Painter, Mathematician, Musician, Film-maker.

There Is A Stage In Any Misery When The Victim Begins To Find A Deep Satisfaction In It.

I Am Never Happier Than When I Am Alone In A Foreign City; It Is As If I Had Become Invisible.