I know only one thing about my novels. In them again and again, this minor man asserts himself in all his hasty, sweaty strength. Perhaps [my critics] are bothered by the fact that what I trust is so very small. They want something vaster. I have news for them: there is nothing vaster.
If, as it seems, we are in the process of becoming a totalitarian society, the thing would be: cheat, lie, evade, fake it, be elsewhere, forge documents, build improved electronic gadgets in your garage that’ll outwit the gadgets used by the authorities…. [Because] we can tell and tell [minor people] what to do, but when the time comes for him to perform, all the subliminal instruction, all the ideological briefing, all the tranquilizing drugs, all the psychotherapy are a waste. He just plain will not jump when the whip is cracked.