I will not be a common man. I will stir the smooth sands of monotony.
I am human, all too bloody human.
I don't go for this auto-cannibalism. Very damaging.
If I'm not at my study by 10:00, 10:30, forget it, I can't write a word.
It grieves us to produce work that is not perfect.
I can't stand light. I hate weather. My idea of heaven is moving from one smoke-filled room to another.