My Working Habits Are Simple: Long Periods

When We Came Back To Paris It Was Clear And Cold And Lovely.

There Was No Really Good True War Book During The Entire Four Years Of The War. The Only True Writing That Came Through During The War Was In Poetry. One Reason For This Is That Poets Are Not Arrested As Quickly As Prose Writers.

Love Is Something That Hangs Up Behind The Bathroom Door And Smells Of Lysol.

I Did Not Understand Them But They Did Not Have Any Mystery, And When I Understood Them They Meant Nothing To Me. I Was Sorry About This But There Was Nothing I Could Do About It.

The Great Artist When He Comes, Uses Everything That Has Been Discovered Or Known About His Art Up To That Point, Being Able To Accept Or Reject In A Time So Short It Seems That The Knowledge Was Born With Him, Rather Than That He Takes Instantly What It Takes The Ordinary Man A Lifetime To Know, And Then The Great Artist Goes Beyond What Has Been Done Or Known And Makes Something Of His Own.