The child lives in the book; but just as much the book lives in the child.
Raids are slightly constipating.
We desert those who desert us; we cannot afford to suffer; we must live how we can.
... artists were intended to be an ornament to society. As a society in themselves they are unthinkable.
Ghosts seem harder to please than we are; it is as though they haunted for hauntingโs sake -- much as we relive, brood, and smoulder over our pasts.
Characters are not created by writers. They pre-exist and have to be found.