[On writing:] What a difficult kind of work to choose! But of course one did not choose it. There was no choice.

I wonder the human race has been so fond of migrations, when the young take so hardly to traveling.

[On writing:] What a difficult kind of work to choose! But of course one did not choose it. There was no choice.

We do not discuss the members of our family to their faces.

At a certain point my novels set. They set just as hard as that jam jar. And then I know they are finished.

Duty is seldom liked either by the doer or the object ... And why should it be? It is not often of advantage to either.

As regards plots I find real life no help at all. Real life seems to have no plots.