When You Don't Know What To Do,

Some Authors Have A Very Hard Time Understanding That In Order To Be Faithful To The Spirit Of The Book, It's Almost Always Impossible To Remain Faithful To The Text. You Have To Make Changes.

Don't Even The Best And Most Fortunate Of Lives Hint At Other Possibilities, At A Different Kind Of Sweetness And, Yes, Bitterness Too? Isn't This Why We Can't Help Feeling Cheated, Even When We Know We Haven't Been?

Where Was The Middle Ground Between A Sense Of Adventure And Just Plain Sense?

Were It Not For Occam's Razor, Which Always Demands Simplicity, I'd Be Tempted To Believe That Human Beings Are More Influenced By Distant Causes Than Immediate Ones. This Would Especially Be True Of Overeducated People, Who Are Capable Of Thinking Past The Immediate, Of Becoming Obsessed By The Remote. It's The Old Stuff, The Conflicts We've Never Come To Terms With, That Sneaks Up On Us, Half Forgotten, Insisting Upon Action.

Movies Have To Handle Time Very Efficiently. They're About Stringing Scenes Together In The Present. Novels Aren't Necessarily About That.