Fasting was good for the imagination but bad for logic.

The worst of pushing horrible things down into one's subconscious is that when they pop up again they are as fresh as if they had been in a refrigerator. You haven't allowed time to get at them to-to mould them over a little.

Nothing puts things in perspective as quickly as a mountain.

A thousand people drowned in floods in China are news: a solitary child drowned in a pond is tragedy.

Most people's first books are their best anyways. It's the one they wanted most to write.

Nothing in this world came out of satisfaction. Except the human race.

I expect this is what death is like when you meet it. Sort of wildly unfair but inevitable.