An account of some of these acts makes Henry Miller's crudest imaginations seem as chaste as a nun's diary.

All of us, I suspect, imagine that a world exists from which we alone have been excluded; all of us have our noses pressed against the glass. But if we contemplate our own lives, not the phantom life on the other side, we might find things in them to envy-a family that’s intact; a job we like; excellent health (the thing we take for granted and on which all happiness depends). Good fortune is there, however sporadic, however modest, however difficult to achieve. The trick is to recognize it.

To read Wilson.. is to be instructed and amused in the highest sense - that is, to be educated.

Writing is the worst part of being a writer.

A penumbra of sombre dignity has descended over his reputation.

I doubt the garrulous archive bequeathed us by the tape recorder will prove as memorable as Henry James's thank-you notes.

If I could answer a critic, people like James Shapiro in the New York Times say that I extrapolate the life too directly and explicitly from the work,

He's someone who experiences a certain amount of bafflement about his talents. How did it happen? How did he become who he is?

In writing this book I'm writing about my own life, a generation removed, ... But in the larger sense ... it was my discovery of Bellow's work, his voice that became for me the inspiration for this book. I was always fascinated by his life and wanted to know more about it.

In writing this book I'm writing about my own life, a generation removed. But in the larger sense ... it was my discovery of Bellow's work, his voice that became for me the inspiration for this book. I was always fascinated by his life and wanted to know more about it.