I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring.

And this was the price you paid for sleeping together.

I was young and not gloomy and there were always strange and comic things that happened in the worst time.

I write description in longhand because that's hardest for me and you're closer to the paper when you work by hand, but I use the typewriter for dialogue because people speak like a typewriter works.

There are only two places in the world where we can live happy: at home and in Paris.

Never confuse movement with action.

You can write anytime people will leave you alone and not interrupt you.