This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces.

Hunger is a powerful incentive to introspection.

It takes a great deal of experience to become natural.

There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.

I don't want anyone reading my writing to think about style. I just want them to be in the story.

What was any art but a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.

In a few hours one could cover that incalculable distance; from the winter country and homely neighbours, to the city where the air trembled like a tuning-fork with unimaginable possibilities.