It is all right you're saying you do not need other people, but there are a lot of people who need you.

The writing of words can lead to all sorts of absurdities.

Work accomplished means little. It is in the past. What we all want is the glorious and living present.

I go about looking at horses and cattle. They eat grass, make love, work when they have to, bear their young. I am sick with envy of them.

Most people are afraid to trust their imaginations and the artist is not.

It may be life is only worthwhile at moments. Perhaps that is all we ought to expect.

I think the whole glory of writing lies in the fact that it forces us out of ourselves and into the lives of others.