The fools ran after me and I ran after the whores, foolish though I realized such a proceeding to be.
C. S. ForesterA whim, a passing mood, readily induces the novelist to move hearth and home elsewhere. He can always plead work as an excuse to get him out of the clutches of bothersome hosts.
C. S. ForesterThe work is with me when I wake up in the morning; it is with me while I eat my breakfast in bed and run through the newspaper, while I shave and bathe and dress.
C. S. ForesterI must be like the princess who felt the pea through seven mattresses; each book is a pea.
C. S. Forester