We are the breakers of our own hearts

I think that as you learn more about writing you learn to be direct.

The mystery in how little we know of other people is no greater than the mystery of how much, Laurel thought.

She read Dickens in the spirit in which she would have eloped with him.

Integrity can be neither lost nor concealed nor faked nor quenched nor artificially come by nor outlived, nor, I believe, in the long run, denied.

My main disappointment was always that a book had to end. And then what? But I don't think I was ever disappointed by the books. I must have been what any author would consider an ideal reader. I felt every pain and pleasure suffered or enjoyed by all the characters. Oh, but I identified!

How can you go out on a limb if you do not know your own tree? No art ever came out of not risking your neck. And risk--experiment--is a considerable part of the joy of doing.