“Yes, he would look for her, whether to delight in the joys of spring together or to plunge into the abyss. He would look for her because he loved her. And somehow this would lessen the lie Claire was living. For, in the end, the girl’s love was reciprocated, and Tom’s love, like Shackleton’s, was also unattainable, lost in the ether, unable to its way to her.”

“The whole world was no more than the precise length of each moment that separated them.”

“There is little more I can add short of dissecting the man, or going into intimate details such as the modest proportions and slight southeasterly curvature of his manhood.”

“[A] writer’s most powerful weapon, his true strength, was his intuition, and regardless of whether he had any talent, if the critics combined to discredit an author’s nose for things, he would be reduced to a fearful creature who took a mistakenly guarded, absurdly cautious approach to his work, which would end up stifling his latent genius.”

“Please write an ending where the Martians are defeated. Don’t take away your readers’ hope.”