I Think If Something Is Worth Doing,

Boredom Provides A Stronger Inclination To Write Than Anything.

All You Who Sleep Tonight Far From The Ones You Love, No Hand To Left Or Right, An Emptiness Above-- Know That You Aren't Alone. The Whole World Shares Your Tears, Some For Two Nights Or One, And Some For All Your Years.

I Often Feel Newspapers Are Just Filling Up Space. Of Course, I Also Know People Who Write Really Long Books.

I Want My Books To Sell, To Be Read. I'm Not Interested In Being Obscure.

But I Too Hate Long Books: The Better, The Worse. If They're Bad They Merely Make Me Pant With The Effort Of Holding Them Up For A Few Minutes. But If They're Good, I Turn Into A Social Moron For Days, Refusing To Go Out Of My Room, Scowling And Growling At Interruptions, Ignoring Weddings And Funerals, And Making Enemies Out Of Friends. I Still Bear The Scars Of Middlemarch.