It Is All Falling Indelibly Into The

The Greater The Scientific Advance, The More Primitive The Fear.

War Is The Form Nostalgia Takes When Men Are Hard-pressed To Say Something Good About Their Country.

That's How You Write Novels Actually. You Suddenly Hit Upon Something And You Realize This Is The Path You Were Meant To Take. You'd Be A Fool If You Didn't Follow It. Perhaps It's Like Solving A Difficult Question In Pure Mathematics. There Must Be A Moment When The Solution Is So Simple And Evident That You Wonder Why You Hadn't Come Upon It Before. When You Do Come Upon It, You Know It In The Deepest Part Of Your Being. It Carries Its Own Logic.

I Used To Think It Was Possible For An Artist To Alter The Inner Life Of The Culture. Now Bomb-makers And Gunmen Have Taken That Territory.

A Dead Afternoon In A Dark Bar Was Not The Worst Of Fates.