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If they give me the bloody prize, why can't they say nice things about me?
--
John Banville, The Guardian (22 July 2008)

 

John Banville

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I tell you what, if any of you survive here, I promise you this: As sure as I have a hole in my bloody arse, when it gets down to the two of you, all these people who are saying nice things about you at the moment, will not! So start thinking about yourself!

 

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I've missed you too! A lot of people have been wondering where I have been, and it's not very exciting news, and it's not very good news, it's just that I've been very ill. I've been very sick for a while and still trying to get better, slowly but surely. ... Anyway, I was so overwhelmed —
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Ysabella Brave

 

I called my mother up when they announced the Nobel Prize, waiting until 7 in the morning. She said, “That’s nice — and when are you going to see me next?”

 

Steven Chu

 

In its conception the literature prize belongs to days when a writer could still be thought of as, by virtue of his or her occupation, a sage, someone with no institutional affiliations who could offer an authoritative word on our times as well as on our moral life. (It has always struck me as strange, by the way, that Alfred Nobel did not institute a philosophy prize, or for that matter that he instituted a physics prize but not a mathematics prize, to say nothing of a music prize - music is, after all, more universal than literature, which is bound to a particular language.) The idea of writer as sage is pretty much dead today. I would certainly feel very uncomfortable in the role.

 

J. M. Coetzee

 

As a Nobel Prize winner I cannot but regret that the award was never given to Mark Twain, nor to Henry James, speaking only of my own countrymen. Greater writers than these also did not receive the prize. I would have been happy — happier — today if the prize had been given to that beautiful writer Isak Dinesen.

 

Ernest Hemingway