The Road To Hell Is Paved With

Work Every Day. No Matter What Has Happened The Day Or Night Before, Get Up And Bite On The Nail.

Writing Is The Clumsy Attempt To Find Symbols For Wordlessness.

All Good Books Are Alike In That They Are Truer Than If They Had Really Happened And After You Are Finished Reading One You Will Feel That All That Happened To You And Afterwards It All Belongs To You: The Good And The Bad, The Ecstasy, The Remorse And Sorrow, The People And The Places And How The Weather Was. If You Can Get So That You Can Give That To People, Then You Are A Writer.

For Luck You Carried A Horse Chestnut And A Rabbit?s Foot In Your Right Pocket. The Fur Had Been Worn Off The Rabbit?s Foot Long Ago And The Bones And The Sinews Were Polished By The Wear. The Claws Scratched In The Lining Of Your Pocket And You Knew Your Luck Was Still There.

You Must Be Prepared To Work Always Without Applause.