There is no feeling to be compared with the feeling of having written and finished a story.

The late evening is the time of times. Then with that unearthly beauty before one it is not hard to realise how far one has to go. To write something that will be worthy of that rising moon, that pale light.

I am treating you as my friend, asking you to share my present minuses in the hope that I can ask you to share my future plusses.

How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?

September is different from all other months. It is more magical. I feel the strange chemical change in the earth which produces mushrooms is the cause, too, of the extra 'life' in the air - a resilience, a sparkle.

Why! Why! Why is the middle-class so stodgy - so utterly without a sense of humor?

If you wish to live, you must first attend your own funeral.