Hiroshima does not look like a bombed city. It looks as if a monster steamroller had passed over it and squashed it out of existence.
I want to write the sort the book that my people want to read, even if the market is small.
Wonder - the sensation of being whisked out of time and space. . . to be bathed in. . . epiphanous delight.
Those are the two things: a sense of loving and being loved, and being creative - that is what life is made up of, and what literature reminds us of.
I am coming from an older school, and I feel that you must learn to wait. There is that essay which was about the great notion of sitting on the mountain and waiting for the muses to cross the stream, and give you the symbols that would allow you to create. The word wait seems to me to be terribly important.
You are obviously writing out of experience and so the boundaries are always blurred, it is just that sometimes it would seem that you are playing with fire a little bit by choosing someone that obviously existed.
I think it is an important question of our lives - what is the meaning of literature to us as humans.
We remember, we rebuild, we come back stronger.
A kind Providence has placed in our breasts a hatred of the unjust and cruel, in order that we may preserve ourselves from cruelty and injustice. They who bear cruelty, are accomplices in it. The pretended gentleness which excludes that charitable rancour, produces an indifference which is half an approbation. They never will love where they ought to love, who do not hate where they ought to hate.
I think a lot it was the theology, that the road to Jerusalem runs through Baghdad, that somehow if we broke apart the rejectionist states, like Iraq, then the whole Middle East would reconfigure itself into a more favorable environment for democracy and Israel and us.
Community begins in mystery and ends in administration. Leaders move away from people and into paper.