The reason Saul Bellow doesn't talk to me anymore is because he knows his new novels are not worth reading.

Saul Bellow never took my advice when he was my friend.

Jane Austen is at the end of the line that begins with Samuel Richardson, which takes wonder and magic out of the novel, treats not the past but the present.

The novel doesn't come into existence until certain methods of reproducing fiction come along.

The novel is always pop art, and the novel is always dying. That's the only way it stays alive. It does really die. I've been thinking about that a lot.