There are no teachers, saints, prophets, good people, but the artists.

The strange thing about life is that though the nature of it must have been apparent to every one for hundreds of years, no one has left any adequate account of it.

What a comfort is friendship in this world.

Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so slightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners. Often the attachment is scarcely perceptible.

I'm fundamentally, I think, an outsider. I do my best work and feel most braced with my back to the wall. It's an odd feeling though, writing aginst the current: difficult entirely to disregard the current. Yet of course I shall.

I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything.

One can only believe entirely, perhaps, in what one cannot see.