I try to work every day because you have no refuge but writing. When you're going through a period of unhappiness, a broken love affair, the death of someone you love, or some other disorder in your life, then you have no refuge but writing.

I must endure & endure & still endure.

The biggest of all differences in this world is between the ones that had or have pleasure in love and those that haven't and hadn't any pleasure in love, but just watched with sick envy.

The future is called 'perhaps,' which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the important thing is not to allow that to scare you.

I'm only really alive when I'm writing.

These are the intensities that one cannot live with, that he has to outgrow if he wants to survive. But who can help grieving for them? If the blood vessels could hold them, how much better to keep those early loves with us?

Most of the confidence which I appear to feel, especially when influenced by noon wine, is only a pretense.