Realism Is Death To Me. I Cannot

Writing Was Like Digging Coal. I Sweat Blood. The Spell Is On Me.

I Am Tired. My Arm Aches. My Head Boils. My Feet Are Cold. But I Am Not Aware Of Any Weakness.

I Will See This Game Of Life Out To Its Bitter End

The Indian Story Has Never Been Written. Maybe I Am The Man To Do It.

I Did Not Have One Bad Spell During Writing - An Unprecedented Record.