The Meal Was Pretentious - A Kind

I Didn't Think; I Experimented.

We All Need Money, But There Are Degrees Of Desperation.

It Seems Priggish Or Pollyannaish To Deny That My Intention In Writing The Work Was To Titillate The Nastier Propensities Of My Readers. My Own Healthy Inheritance Of Original Sin Comes Out In The Book And I Enjoyed Raping And Ripping By Proxy. It Is The Novelist’s Innate Cowardice That Makes Him Depute To Imaginary Personalities The Sins That He Is Too Cautious To Commit For Himself.

A Man Can Write One Book That Can Be Great, But This Doesn't Make Him A Great Writer-just The Writer Of A Great Book. . . I Think A Writer Has To Extend Very Widely, As Well As Plunge Very Deep, To Be A Great Novelist.

If You Expect The Worst From A Person You Can Never Be Disappointed.