In 1957, I Decided: Write Or Perish.

You Can Write About Other People And Their Ideas And Life Without Having Lived It, But Even Your Perception Of That Is Going To Be Colored By What You Know And What You Experience. And This Is Undeniable.

I'm Tired Of My Life, My Clothes, The Things I Say. I'm Hacking Away At The Surface, As At Some Kind Of Gray Ice, Trying To Break Through To What Is Underneath Or I Am Dead. I Can Feel The Surface Trembling—it Seems Ready To Give But It Never Does. I Am Uninterested In Current Events. How Can I Justify This? How Can I Explain It? I Don't Want To Have The Same Vocabulary I've Always Had. I Want Something Richer, Broader, More Penetrating And Powerful.

Women Fall In Love When They Get To Know You. Men Are Just The Opposite. When They Finally Know You They're Ready To Leave

I'd Given Up Everything To Be A Writer, And If I Didn't Then Go On To Do That - To Write - Then I Didn't Know What Would Happen To Me.

Dialogue's A Method Of Revelation, Of Course. A Few Words Of Dialogue Can Reveal Worlds About A Character.