And I Just Can't Live In This

We All Want Things We Can't Have. Being A Decent Human Being Is Accepting That.

In Some Mysterious Way Woods Have Never Seemed To Me To Be Static Things. In Physical Terms, I Move Through Them; Yet In Metaphysical Ones, They Seem To Move Through Me.

Another Reason I Think The Novel Will Survive Is That The Reader Has To Work In A Novel. In A Film, You Are Presented With Someone Else's Imagination Exactly Bodied Out. The Marvelous Thing About A Novel Is That Every Reader Will Imagine Even The Very Simplest Sentence Slightly Differently.

I Suppose I'd Had, By The Standards Of That Pre-permissive Time, A Good Deal Of Sex For My Age. Girls, Or A Certain Kind Of Girl, Liked Me; I Had A Car-not So Common Among Undergraduates In Those Days-and I Had Some Money. I Wasn't Ugly; And Even More Important, I Had My Loneliness, Which, As Every Cad Knows, Is A Deadly Weapon With Women. My 'technique' Was To Make A Show Of Unpredictability, Cynicism, And Indifference. Then, Like A Conjurer With His White Rabbit, I Produced The Solitary Heart.

Time Is Not A Road - It Is A Room.