Idleness breeds our better virtues.

You don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.

I am trying to say it all in one sentence, between one cap and one period.

A writer needs three things, experience, observation, and imagination, any two of which, at times any one of which, can supply the lack of the others.

She wouldn't say what we both knew. 'The reason you will not say it is, when you say it, even to yourself, you will know it is true: is that it? But you know it is true now. I can almost tell you the day when you knew it is true. Why won't you say it, even to yourself?' She will not say it.

The good artist believes that nobody is good enough to give him advice. He has supreme vanity. No matter how much he admires the old writer, he wants to beat him.

And I will look down and see my murmuring bones and the deep water like wind, like a roof of wind, and after a long time they cannot distinguish even bones upon the lonely and inviolate sand.