Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish.

War ... a reversal of the rules where a man is permitted to kill all the humans he can.

The clouds appeared and went away, and in a while they did not try anymore.

You got a God. Don't make no difference if you don' know what he looks like.

I should have known I am the rain. I am the land and I am the rain. The grass will grow out of me in a little while.

A dying people tolerates the present, rejects the future, and finds its satisfactions in past greatness and half remembered glory

When I face the desolate impossibility of writing five hundred pages, a sick sense of failure falls on me, and I know I can never do it. Then gradually, I write one page and then another. One day's work is all I can permit myself to contemplate.