It's probably simply a matter of temperament that I never stopped to wonder if I could "match" what I had done, never choked off my writing by competing with myself, or with anybody else for that matter. My ambition was absolutely centered on the work itself, never on what it would bring me, or "who" it would make me. I never cared about that at all.

Love does not obey the mind, and turns to hate when forced.

The story is not in the plot but in the telling.

Do you know how to read?" "No. It is one of the black arts." He nodded. "But a useful one," he said.

When in the Land of Property think like a propertarian. Dress like one, eat like one, act like one, be one.

One voice speaking truth is a greater force than fleets and armies.

My Real Children starts quietly, then suddenly takes you on two roller-coaster rides at once, swooping dizzily through a double panorama and ending in a sort of super Sophie's Choice. A daring tour de force.