Jealously Was An Unjust And

I Must Go Deeper And Even Stronger Into My Treasure Mine And Stint Nothing Of Time, Toil, Or Torture.

I Am Tired. My Arm Aches. My Head Boils. My Feet Are Cold. But I Am Not Aware Of Any Weakness.

There Are Hours When I Must Force The Novel Out Of My Mind And Be Interested In The Children.

Men May Rise On Stepping Stones Of Their Dead Selves To Higher Things.

I Love My Work But Do Not Know How I Write It.