all his prayers of the past had been simple concrete requests: God, give me a bicycle, a knife with seven blades, a box of oil paints. Only how, how, could you say something so indefinite, so meaningless as this: God, let me be loved.
My major regret in life is that my childhood was unnecessarily lonely.
When God hands you a gift, he also hands you a whip; and the whip is intended for self-flagellation solely.
Fame is only good for one thing - they will cash your check in a small town.
Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself.
Well, I'm about as tall as a shotgun, and just as noisy.