The South is brutalized to a degree not realized by its own inhabitants, and the very foundation of government, law and order, are imperilled.
I confess freely to you, I could never look long upon a monkey, without very mortifying reflections.
I’m just fascinated by houses. In another life, I’d have probably trained as an architect. If I had enough money, I’d collect them like other people collect teapots. I don’t know why I love them so much. I’m just very interested in the idea of a house as a metaphor for the way one lives.
I had a lot of trouble in school to begin with. I got left back in kindergarten, and I was in special education. My teachers didn’t have very much faith in me.
As much as we love each other, there is some growing difficulty in my adult relationship with my father. Because we’re both writers, we’re having a very intimate conversation in a very public forum.
I’m on the very blackest part of the black list.
Women have very little idea of how much men hate them.
I had a Guru. He was a great saint and most merciful. I served him long – very, very long; still, he would not blow any mantra in my ears. I had a keen desire never to leave him but to stay with him and serve him and at all cost receive some instruction from him.
Everyone believes very easily whatever they fear or desire.
I could become very rich in Guatemala but by the low method of ratifying my title, opening a clinic, and specialising in allergies. To do that would be the most horrible betrayal of the two ‘I’s’ struggling inside me: the socialist and the traveller.