But What I Do I Do Because

If He Can Only Perform Good Or Only Perform Evil, Then He Is A Clockwork Orange—meaning That He Has The Appearance Of An Organism Lovely With Colour And Juice But Is In Fact Only A Clockwork Toy To Be Wound Up By God Or The Devil.

Evil Has To Exist Along With Good, In Order That Moral Choice May Operate.

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.

I Don't Write Out Of Fear. I Write Out Of A Strong Urge To Meet Death On Its Own Eternal Terms, Because The Fact Is That If You Write As Little As A Page Of Prose-even Bad Prose-that Is Eternal.

Life Is A Wretched Gray Saturday, But It Has To Be Lived Through.