Freud Is Finished, Einstein's Next.

The Instant He Knew He Loved Her, She Slipped Down His Body And Out Of His Arms

I Didn’t Do Anything. I Don’t Have An Explanation, I Don’t Know Why I Wanted To Write. I Did Some Short Stories At That Time, But Very Infrequently. I Quit My Job Just To Quit. I Didn’t Quit My Job To Write Fiction. I Just Didn’t Want To Work Anymore

You Need To Know Things The Others Don't Know. It's What No One Knows About You That Allows You To Know Yourself.

The Cheesecake Was Smooth And Lush, With The Personality Of A Warm And Well-to-do Uncle Who Knows A Hundred Dirty Jokes And Will Die Of Sexual Exertions In The Arms Of His Mistress.

Stories Have No Point If They Don't Absorb Our Terror.