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The Novels That Attract Me Most Are Those That Create An Illusion Of Transparency Around A Knot Of Human Relationships As Obscure, Cruel, And Perverse As Possible.

Though I Leave The House As Little As Possible, I Have The Impression That Someone Is Disturbing My Papers. More Than Once I Have Discovered That Some Pages Were Missing From My Manuscripts. A Few Days Afterward I Would Find The Pages In Their Place Again. But Often I No Longer Recognize My Manuscripts, As If I Had Forgotten What I Had Written, Or As If Overnight I Were So Changed That No Longer Recognized Myself In The Self Of Yesterday.

You'll Understand When You've Forgotten What You Understood Before

New York Is Perhaps The Only Place In America Where You Feel At The Centre And Not At The Margins, In The Provinces, So For That Reason I Prefer Its Horror To This Privileged Beauty, Its Enslavement To The Freedoms Which Remain Local And Privileged And Very Particularized, And Which Do Not Represent A Genuine Antithesis.

The Soul Is Often In The Surface, And The Importance Of 'depth' Is Overestimated.