When All Of Us Are Forgotten, People

There Is A Place In Men's Lives Where Pictures Do In Fact Bleed, Ghosts Gibber And Shriek, Maidens Run Forever Through Mysterious Landscapes From Nameless Foes; That Place Is, Of Course, The World Of Dreams And Of The Repressed Guilts And Fears That Motivate Them [i.e., The Unconscious]. This World The Dogmatic Optimism And Shallow Psychology Of The Age Of Reason Had Denied; And Yet This World It Is The Final, Perhaps The Essential, Purpose Of The Gothic Romance To Assert.

I Have, I Admit, A Low Tolerance For Detached Chronicling And Cool Analysis.

I Never Met Anybody In My Life Who Says, I Want To Be A Critic. People Want To Be A Fireman, Poet, Novelist.

I've Had A Tough Time With Pynchon. I Liked Him Very Much When I First Read Him. I Liked Him Less With Each Book. He Got Denser And More Complex In A Way That Didn't Really Pay Off.

Faulkner Turned Out To Be A Great Teacher. When A Student Asked A Question Ineptly, He Answered The Question With What The Student Had Really Wanted To Know.