The Cat Sat On The

When It's Going Well [writing] Goes Terribly Fast. It Isn't At All Surprising To Write A Chapter In A Day, Which For Me Is About Twenty-two Pages. When It's Going Badly, It Isn't Really Going Badly; It's Just The Beginning.

There Was Nothing Dishonourable In Not Being Blown About By Every Little Modern Wind. Better To Have Worth, To Entrench, To Be An Oak Of One's Own Generation.

I Think I'm In The Same Mood As Ever, But In Some Ways More Mature. I Guess You Could Say That, At 65, When You've Seen The World Shape Up As I Have, There Are Only Two Things You Can Do: Laugh Or Kill Yourself.

Wives?" She Asked, Interrupting Him. For A Moment, He Had Assumed She Was Tuning To The Novel. Then He Saw Her Waiting, Suspicious Eyes, So He Replied Cautiously, "none Active," As If Wives Were Volcanoes.

People Are Very Secretive - Secret Even From Themselves.