Rome Was A Poem Pressed Into Service

Sex Almost Always Disappoints Me In Novels. Everything Can Be Said Or Done Now, And That's What I Often Find: Everything, A Feeling Of Generality Or Dispersal. But In My Experience, True Sex Is So Particular, So Peculiar To The Person Who Yearns For It. Only He Or She, And No One Else, Would Desire So Very Much That Very Person Under Those Circumstances. In Fiction, I Miss That Sense Of Terrific Specificity.

Ruefulness Is One Of The Classical Tones Of American Fiction. It Fosters A Native, Deglamorized Form Of Anxiety.

To Be Misunderstood Can Be The Writer's Punishment For Having Disturbed The Reader's Peace. The Greater The Disturbance, The Greater The Possibility Of Misunderstanding.

The Tension Between 'yes' And No', Between 'i Can' And 'i Cannot,' Makes Us Feel That, In So Many Instances, Human Life Is An Interminable Debate With One's Self.

People ... Have No Idea What A Hard Job It Is For Two Writers To Be Friends. Sooner Or Later You Have To Talk About Each Other's Work.