I love the rain. I want the feeling of it on my face.

I have such a horror of telegrams that ask me how I am!! I always want to reply dead.

Looking back, I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was too. But better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all.

Outside the sky is light with stars

Life never become a habit to me. It's always a marvel.

The truth is that every true admirer of the novels cherishes the happy thought that he alone - reading between the lines - has bcome the secret friend of their author.

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?