The Past Is What You Remember, Imagine

Nothing Is More Sterile Or Lamentable Than The Man Content To Live Within Himself.

No Matter How You Look At It, All The Emotions Connected With Love Are Not Really Immortal; Like All Other Passions In Life, They Are Bound To Fade At Some Point. The Trick Is To Convert Love Into Some Lasting Friendship That Overcomes The Fading Passion.

I Don't Give A Damn What Other People Think. It's Entirely Their Own Business. I'm Not Writing For Other People.

I've Had My Fill Of These City Guttersnipes--all That Scavenging Scum! They're The Sort Of People, Who, If The Gates Of Heaven Opened To Them, All They'd Feel Would Be A Draught.

I Sometimes Wish Desperately That I Could Write Like Someone Else, Be Someone Else. No One Particularly. Just If I Could Put The Pen Down On Paper And Suddenly Come Out In A Totally Different Way.