Only White Men Have The Luxury Of

My Dream Has Always Been To Suspend Myself In Space When I Write, And Lying Horizontal In Bed Is The Closest To Doing That.

I Write The Way You Might Arrange Flowers. Not Every Try Works, But Each One Launches Another. Every Constraint, Even Dullness, Frees Up A New Design.

Maybe Happiness Is Like A Virus. Maybe It's One Of Those Bugs That Sits For A Long Time, So We Don't Even Know That We Are Infected.

I Think That If The Novel's Task Is To Describe Where We Find Ourselves And How We Live Now, The Novelist Must Take A Good, Hard Look At The Most Central Facts Of Contemporary Life - Technology And Science.

If You're Going To Immerse Yourself In A Project For Three Years, Why Not Stake Out A Chunk Of The World That Is Completely Alien To You And Go Traveling?