Writers are always anxious, always on the run--from the telephone, from responsibilities, from the distractions of the world.

It is impossible to capture the essence of love in writing, only its symptoms remain, the erotic absorption, the huge disparity between the times together and the times apart, the sense of being excluded.

Writing is like carrying a fetus.

For me to write I have to be, a, alone, and b, know that nobody is going to question me. I write the way a thief steals; it's a little covert.