Why Should I Be Honored?

All The Fear In The World, And The Violence That Comes From The Fear, And The Hatred That Comes From The Violence, And The Lonliness That Comes From The Hatred. All The Unhappiness, All The Cruelty, It Gathers Like Clouds In The Air, And Grows Dark And Cold And Heavy, And Falls Like Grey Snow In Thick Layers Over The Land. Then The World Is Muffled And Numb, And No One Can Hear Each Other Or Feel Each Other. Think How Sad And Lonely That Must Be.

To Put It Another Way, Pain Is God's Megaphone To Rouse A Deaf World. Why Must It Be Pain? Why Can't He Rouse Us More Gently, With Violins Or Laughter? Because The Dream From Which We Must Be Wakened, Is The Dream That All Is Well.

There Are Dozens Of Great American Writers Who Write About The Family.

I Am As I Am. The World Is As It Is. Whether I Am Content With That Has Very Little To Do With It.

Madly, Futilely, I Wrote Novel After Novel, Eight In All, That Failed To Find A Publisher. I Persisted Because For Me The Novel Was The Supreme Literary Form: Not Just One Among Many, Not A Relic Of The Past, But The Way We Communicate To One Another The Subtlest Truths About This Business Of Living.