Nobody Knew How To Be What They

Like An Ox-cart Driver In Monsoon Season Or The Skipper Of A Grounded Ship, One Must Sometimes Go Forward By Going Back.

Not Every Boy Thrown To The Wolves Becomes A Hero.

A Curious Thing About Written Literature: It Is About Four Thousand Years Old, But We Have No Way Of Knowing Whether Four Thousand Years Constitutes Senility Or The Maiden Blush Of Youth.

Everyone Is Necessarily The Hero Of His Own Life Story.

I Don't See How Anybody Starts A Novel Without Knowing How It's Going To End. I Usually Make Detailed Outlines: How Many Chapters It Will Be And So Forth.