[On writing:] The most egotistic of occupations, and the most gratifying while it lasts.

When, and how, and at what stage of our development did spirituality and our strange notions of religion arise? the need for worship which is nothing more than our frightened refuge into propitiation of a Creator we do not understand? A detective story, the supreme Who-done-it, written in indecipherable hieroglyphics, no Rosetta stone supplied by the consummate Mystifier to tease us poor fumbling unravellers of his plot.

[On writing:] The most egotistic of occupations, and the most gratifying while it lasts.

Is it better to be extremely ambitious, or rather modest? Probably the latter is safer; but I hate safety, and would rather fail gloriously than dingily succeed.

Autumn in felted slipper shuffles on, Muted yet fiery.--Vita Sackville-West

Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, / For every bee becomes a drunken lover, / Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.

however many resolutions one makes, one's pen, like water, always finds its own level, and one can't write in any way other than one's own.