Not The Why But The What.

This Was A Big Storm And He Might As Well Enjoy It. It Was Ruining Everything, But You Might As Well Enjoy It

We Ate Well And Cheaply And Drank Well And Cheaply And Slept Well And Warm Together And Loved Each Other.

The Only Kind Of Writing Is Rewriting.

That Is What We Are Supposed To Do When We Are At Our Best - Make It All Up - But Make It Up So Truly That Later It Will Happen That Way.

If A Writer Of Prose Knows Enough About What He Is Writing About He May Omit Things That He Knows And The Reader, If The Writer Is Writing Truly Enough, Will Have A Feeling Of Those Things As Strongly As Though The Writer Had Stated Them. The Dignity Of Movement Of An Iceberg Is Due To Only One-eighth Of It Being Above Water. A Writer Who Omits Things Because He Does Not Know Them Only Makes Hollow Places In His Writing.