You have to wait for your mind to catch up with whatever it is it’s working on; then you can write a novel.

…if he can write a book at all, a writer cannot do it by peeping over his shoulder at somebody else, any more than a woman can have a baby by watching some other woman...

If your writing doesn’t keep you up at night, it won’t keep anyone else up either

I write of the wish that comes true–for some reason, a terrifying thought.

Love, when you get fear in it, it’s not love any more. It’s hate.

That’s all it takes, one drop of fear to curdle love into hate.

I had done all that for her, and I never wanted to see her again as long as I lived.That’s all it takes, one drop of fear, to curdle love into hate.

I ripped all her clothes off. She twisted and turned, slow, so they would slip out from under her. Then she closed her eyes and lay back on the pillow. Her hair was falling over...

I had killed a man, for money and a woman. I didn’t have the money and I didn’t have the woman.