What Do You Do When You're No

What I Want To Say Is That I Owe All The Happiness Of My Life To You. You Have Been Entirely Patient With Me And Incredibly Good. Everything Is Gone From Me But The Certainty Of Your Goodness. I Can't Go On Spoiling Your Life Any Longer. I Don't Think Two People Could Have Been Happier Than We Have Been.

I Think Of The People Who Commit These Acts As Children. They're In Their 20s, But Like Certain Children, They Have Been Told Only One Story, Over And Over. Like Most Children, They Believe In An Easily Identifiable Good And Evil, And Like Most Children, They Are Capable Of Unthinkable Cruelty.

I Revise Constantly, As I Go Along And Then Again After I've Finished A First Draft. Few Of My Novels Contain A Single Sentence That Closely Resembles The Sentence I First Set Down. I Just Find That I Have To Keep Zapping And Zapping The English Language Until It Starts To Behave In Some Way That Vaguely Matches My Intentions.

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.

We’d Hoped For Love Of A Different Kind, Love That Knew And Forgave Our Human Frailty But Did Not Miniaturize Our Grander Ideas Of Ourselves.