Blockbusting Fiction Is Bought As Furniture. Unread,

The Writer's Life Seethes Within But Not Without.

I Don't Write Out Of Fear. I Write Out Of A Strong Urge To Meet Death On Its Own Eternal Terms, Because The Fact Is That If You Write As Little As A Page Of Prose-even Bad Prose-that Is Eternal.

Art Is Rare And Sacred And Hard Work, And There Ought To Be A Wall Of Fire Around It.

It Is As Inhuman To Be Totally Good As It Is To Be Totally Evil.

Oh, It Was Gorgeosity And Yumyumyum. When It Came To The Scherzo I Could Viddy Myself Very Clear Running And Running On Like The Very Light And Mysterious Nogas, Carving The Whole Litso Of The Creeching World With My Cut-throat Britva.