Words Are Nets Through Which All Truth

I've Always Known A Lot Of Very Bad People, Destructive, Brutes Of A Certain Kind. Then I've Seen These Lovely Impulses And What Not, And They've Stayed With Me And Comforted Me.

A Lie Hides The Truth. A Story Tries To Find It.

My Life Was Incoherent To Me. I Felt It Quivering, Spitting Out Broken Teeth.

I Don't Know What Makes A Writer's Voice. It's Dozens Of Things. There Are People Who Write Who Don't Have It. They're Tone-deaf, Even Though They're Very Fluent. It's An Ability, Like Anything Else, Being A Doctor Or A Veterinarian, Or A Musician.

A Good Novel Begins With A Small Question And Ends With A Bigger One.