I Wrote Much Because I

Is It Better For A Man To Have Chosen Evil Than To Have Good Imposed Upon Him?

One Goes On Writing Partly Because It Is The Only Available Way Of Earning A Living. It Is A Hard Way And Highly Competitive. My Heart Drops Into My Bowels When I Enter A Bookshop And See How Fierce The Competition Is...there Is Also A Privier Reason For Pushing On, And That Is The Hopeless Hope That Someday That Intractable Enemy Language Will Yield To The Struggle To Control It... Mastery Never Comes, And One Serves A Lifelong Apprenticeship. The Writer Cannot Retire From The Battle; He Dies Fighting.

Keep Away From Physicians. It Is All Probing And Guessing And Pretending With Them. They Leave It To Nature To Cure In Her Own Time, But They Take The Credit. As Well As Very Fat Fees.

Put It Off For A Bit. All Life Is Putting Off. Well, Not Entirely.

Life Is Sustained By The Grinding Opposition Of Moral Entities.