It all seemed a hollow sham now - that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she'd had enough of that; she wanted to live!
One forges one's style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
I do not despair in the least of ultimate triumph. I repeat it with intense conviction.
Respectable people... What bastards!
The vague torment of ... ambition.
Governments are suspicious of literature because it is a force that eludes them.