And there was that poor sucker Flaubert rolling around on his floor for three days looking for the right word.

Everybody's got their troubles.

But I don't give up; I forget why not.

Telegram to a friend who had just become a mother after a prolonged pregnancy: Good work, Mary. We all knew you had it in you.

Prince or commoner, tenor or bass, Painter or plumber or never-do-well, Do me a favor and shut your face - Poets alone should kiss and tell.

Why, after all, should readers never be harrowed? Surely there is enough happiness in life without having to go to books for it.

Women and elephants never forget.