Lots of things are mysteries. But that doesn't mean there isn't an answer to them. It's just that scientists haven't found the answer yet.

The greatest mystery of all: tomorrow.

In a world of diminishing mystery, the unknown persists.

Is there wisdom in innocence? I think there is, but there is a cult now of drab men and women, for whom the world, and even life itself, is a kind of commodity. These critics, having eaten, now study their excrement to see what they consumed. On this they base certain conclusions. Their ignorance is uncompromising. Let us rather stand before the unknown, in very humble, quiet observance and wait while it reveals itself.

Most of my work consisted of crossing out. Crossing out was the secret of all good writing.

I don't mean that literary fiction is better than genre fiction, On the contrary; novels can perform two functions and most perform only one.