Accept That, Like Many Men, You Have

There's Just This For Consolation: An Hour Here Or There When Our Lives Seem, Against All Odds And Expectations, To Burst Open And Give Us Everything We've Ever Imagined.

If You've Really Loved A Book, Or A Movie For That Matter, Really Loved It, What You Want Is That Same Book Again, But As If You've Never Read It. And When You Get Something Unfamiliar, You Feel Betrayed.

There Is A Beauty In The World, Though It's Harsher Than We Expect It To Be.

I Seem To Produce A Novel Approximately Once Every Three Years.

Sure, Go Ahead, Simulate Life, Using Only Ink And Paper.