When the switch fell I could feel it upon my flesh; when it welted and ridged it was my blood that ran, and I would think with each blow of the switch: Now you are aware of me! Now I am something in your secret and selfish life, who have marked your blood with my own for ever and ever.

Don Quixote — I read that every year, as some do the Bible.

It's because I'm alone.. If I could just feel it, it would be different, because I would not be alone. But if I were not alone, everybody would know it. And he could do so much for me, and then I would not be alone. Then I could be all right alone.

...the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.

You must always know the past, for there is no real Was, there is only Is.

Get it down. Take chances. It may be bad, but that's the only way you can do anything really good.

Let the writer take up surgery or bricklaying if he is interested in technique.