How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?

Language is wine upon the lips.

. . . to walk alone in London is the greatest rest.

I believe that the main thing in beginning a novel is to feel, not that you can write it, but that it exists on the far side of a gulf, which words can't cross: that it's to be pulled through only in a breathless anguish.

Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.

Let it be fact, one feels, or let it be fiction; the imagination will not serve under two masters simultaneously.

A very elementary exercise in psychology, not to be dignified by the name of psycho-analysis, showed me, on looking at my notebook, that the sketch of the angry professor had been made in anger. Anger had snatched my pencil while I dreamt. But what was anger doing there? Interest, confusion, amusement, boredom--all these emotions I could trace and name as they succeeded each other throughout the morning. Had anger, the black snake, been lurking among them? Yes, said the sketch, anger had.