Writing is making sense of life. You work your whole life and perhaps you've made sense of one small area.
The very aim and end of our institutions is just this that we may think what we like and say what we think.
The gap between the committed and the indifferent is a Sahara whose faint trails, followed by the mind's eye only, fade out in sand.
Power is something of which I am convinced there is no innocence this side of the womb.
The creative act is not pure. History evidences it. Sociology extracts it. The writer loses Eden, writes to be read and comes to realize that he is answerable.
Responsibility is what awaits outside the Eden of Creativity.
Time is change; we measure its passing by how much things alter.
Perhaps the best definition of progress would be the continuing efforts of men and women to narrow the gap between the convenience of the powers that be and the unwritten charter.
From Ernest Hemingway's stories, I learned to listen within my stories for what went unsaid by my characters.