He had a picture in his mind of Studs Lonigan courageously telling life and the world to stick itself up it's old tomato.

There's one good kind of writer - a dead one.

He had come to America, haven of peace and liberty, and it, too, was joining the slaughter, fighting for the big capitalists. There was no peace for men, only murder, cruelty, brutality.

Neither man nor God is going to tell me what to write.

America is so vast that almost everything said about it is likely to be true, and the opposite is probably equally true.

The danger of censorship in cultural media increases in proportion to the degree to which one approaches the winning of a mass audience.