The hardest thing was learning to write. I was 13, and the only writing I had done was for Social Studies. It consisted of copying passages right out of the encyclopedia.

In a very basic way, a prominent landmark such as Mt. Holyoke tells you where you are. They let you know that you're not the first person in a place.

If you live in the same small place long enough, something you don't like is bound to happen.

I wrote a novel about the combat experiences I didn't have in Vietnam.

It's been crazy. My life has totally changed. One week I was in school, hanging out with my friends and the next, I'm going to the L.A. premiere of one of the year's biggest movies. It's been a crazy experience.

You can't legislate into existence an act of forgiveness and a true confession; those are mysteries of the human heart, and they occur between one individual and another individual, not a panel of judges sitting asking questions, trying to test your truth.

Happiness is secured through virtue; it is a good attained by man's own will.

Commissions suit me. They set limits. Jean Marais dared me to write play in which he would not speak in the first act, would weep for joy in the second and in the last would fall backward down a flight of stairs.