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Writing is a form of therapy. Sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear which is inherent in the human situation.
The moment comes when a character does or says something you hadn't thought about. At that moment he's alive and you leave it to him.
A major character has to come somehow out of the unconscious.
No human being can really understand another, and no one can arrange another's happiness.
My two fingers on a typewriter have never connected with my brain. My hand on a pen does. A fountain pen, of course. Ball-point pens are only good for filling out forms on a plane.
In human relations kindness and lies are worth a thousand truths.
Our worst enemies here are not the ignorant and simple, however cruel; our worst enemies are the intelligent and corrupt.
Heresy is another word for freedom of thought.
Our Man in Havana.
