Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything.
“I went to work in 1962, and by '64 I was writing all the time, every night and every weekend. It didn't occur to me that, having read nothing and knowing nothing, I was in no position to write a book.”
“I'd rather rot on my own floor than be found by a bunch of bingo players in a nursing home.”