And no book, and possibly no painting, when it is finished, is ever exactly like the first dream of it..

Perhaps it was freedom itself that choked her..

The justice I have received, I shall give back..

Each book is, in a sense, an argument with myself, and I would write it, whether it is ever published or not..

My New Year’s Eve Toast: to all the devils, lusts, passions, greeds, envies, loves, hates, strange desires, enemies ghostly and real, the army of mem….

I think J.D. Salinger is correct in granting no interviews, and in making no speeches.

They were not friends. They didn't know each other. It struck Tom like a horrible truth, true for all time, true for the people he had known in the p….

I can't write if someone else is in the house, not even the cleaning woman..

My imagination functions much better when I don't have to speak to people..

When I am thickening my plots, I like to think 'What if ... What if ... ' Thus my imagination can move from the likely, which everyone can think of, ….

I have no television - I hate it..

What was it to love someone, what was love exactly, and why did it end or not end? Those were the real questions, and who could answer them?.

I prefer to live in the country where it's quiet. Woody Allen movies there are dubbed into Italian..

It always gets late with you. - Is that a compliment?.

Anticipation! It occurred to him that his anticipation was more pleasant to him than the experiencing..

I don`t set the alarm to get up. I get up when I feel like it..

I know you have it in you, Guy," Anne said suddenly at the end of a silence, "the capacity to be terribly happy..

I didn't hang around films. I don't know if I'd ever seen Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes..

Robert Walker as Bruno was excellent. He had elegance and humor, and the proper fondness for his mother.

January. It was all things. And it was one thing, like a solid door. Its cold sealed the city in a gray capsule. January was moments, and January was….

He liked the fact that Venice had no cars. It made the city human. The streets were like veins, he thought, and the people were the blood, circulatin….