I Suppress In My Prose

And Really The Purpose Of Art - For Me, Fiction - Is To Alert, To Indicate To Stop, To Say: Make Certain That When You Rush Through You Will Not Miss The Moment Which You Might Have Had, Or Might Still Have.

In London, The Weather Would Affect Me Negatively. I React Strongly To Light. If It Is Cloudy And Raining, There Are Clouds And Rain In My Soul.

It Is Not Sex By Itself That Interests Me, But Its Particular Role In American Consciousness, And In My Own Life.

It's Not That You Aren't Likable. On The Contrary. You Are. It's Just That One Wonders If You Haven't Made A Career Out Of Being So Likable.

I Look Back Into Past History, The Stored Experiences Or Products Of The Imagination. I Look No Further Forward Than The Evening.