The Unconscious Mind Has A Habit Of

Every Grain Of Experience Is Food For The Greedy Growing Soul Of The Artist.

Only In England Is The Perversion Of Language Regarded As A Victory For Democracy.

I Chart A Little First-list Of Names, Rough Synopsis Of Chapters, And So On. But One Daren't Overplan; So Many Things Are Generated By The Sheer Act Of Writing.

But, Brothers, This Biting Of Their Toe-nails Over What Is The Cause Of Badness Is What Turns Me Into A Fine Laughing Malchick. They Don't Go Into What Is The Cause Of Goodness, So Why Of The Other Shop?

The Writer's Life Seethes Within But Not Without.