A Pretty Little Collection Of Weaknesses And

Sit Down And Put Down Everything That Comes Into Your Head And Then You're A Writer. But An Author Is One Who Can Judge His Own Stuff's Worth, Without Pity, And Destroy Most Of It.

If We Want To Be Sincere, We Must Admit That There Is A Well-nourished Love And An Ill-nourished Love. And The Rest Is Literature.

Voluptuaries, Consumed By Their Senses, Always Begin By Flinging Themselves With A Great Display Of Frenzy Into An Abyss. But They Survive, They Come To The Surface Again. And They Develop A Routine Of The Abyss: It's Four O Clock. At Five I Have My Abyss.

At The Top Of The Iron Staircase Leading To The Stage, The Good, Dry, Dusty Warmth Wraps Me Round Like A Comfortable Dirty Cloak.

Be Happy. It's One Way Of Being Wise.