The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.

When I am grown up I shall carry a notebook—a fat book with many pages, methodically lettered. I shall enter my phrases.

It is the duty of the writer to describe.

I'm terrified of passive acquiescence. I live in intensity.

So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.

But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love.

I feel that by writing I am doing what is far more necessary than anything else.