A Genius Who Does Not Know That

When I Wrote My Book I Wanted To Love Someone. I Wanted To Be In Love. Now I Know That I Shall Never Be In Love - And I No Longer Wish To Be.

I've Never Made Plans For More Than A Day Ahead.

I Am Not Good. I Am Not Virtuous. I Am Not Sympathetic. I Am Not Generous. I Am Merely And Above All A Creature Of Intense Passionate Feeling. I Feel—everything. It Is My Genius. It Burns Me Like Fire.

Let Me But Make A Beginning, Let Me But Strike The World In A Vulnerable Spot, And I Can Take It By Storm.

I Want To Write Such Things As Compel The Admiring Acclamation Of The World At Large, Such Things As Are Written But Once In Years, Things Subtle But Distinctly Different From The Books Written Every Day.