And you'll always love me won't you? Yes And the rain won't make any difference? No

Details make stories human, and the more human a story can be, the better.

[Never give up hope. Never give in to pessimism. Never despair.] No horse named Morbid ever won a race!

The further you go in writing the more alone you are. Most of your best and oldest friends die. Others move away. You do not see them except rarely, but you write and have much the same contact with them as though you were together at the café in the old days. You exchange comic, sometimes cheerfully obscene and irresponsible letters, and it is almost as good as talking. But you are more alone because that is how you must work and the time to work is shorter all the time and if you waste it you feel you have committed a sin for which there is no forgiveness.

Always stop for the day while you still know what will happen next.

A girl came in the cafe and sat by herself at a table near the window. She was very pretty with a face fresh as a newly minted coin if they minted coins in smooth flesh with rain-freshened skin, and her hair black as a crow's wing and cut sharply and diagonally across her cheek.

Do not think about sin, he thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it.