I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
Jealously was an unjust and stifling thing.
What is writing but an expression of my own life?
Today I began the novel that I determined to be great.
Far away Tongariro! Green - white thundering Athabasca river of New Zealand! I vowed I would come again down across the Pacific to fish in the swift cold waters of this most beautiful and famous of trout streams. It is something to have striven. It is much to have kept your word.
Writing was like digging coal. I sweat blood. The spell is on me.