I will go down with my colours flying.

Disastrous would have been the result if a fire or a death had suddenly demanded something heroic of human nature, but tragedies come in the hungry hours.

Consolation for those moments when you can't tell whether you're the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world.

But what is more to the point is my belief that the habit of writing thus for my own eye only is good practice. It loosens the ligaments. Never mind the misses and the stumbles.

Talents of the novelist: ... observation of character, analysis of emotion, people's feelings, personal relations.

Men felt a chill in their hearts; a damp in their minds. In a desperate effort to snuggle their feelings into some sort of warmth,one subterfuge was tried after anothersentences swelled, adjectives multiplied, lyrics became epics.

Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!