He Knows So Little And Knows It

Theories Have Nothing To Do With Life.

... The Novel, As A Living Force, If Not As A Work Of Art, Owes An Incalculable Debt To What We Call, Mistakenly, The New Psychology, To Freud, In His Earlier Interpretations, And More Truly, I Think, To Jung.

Yes, I Learned Long Ago That The Only Satisfaction Of Authorship Lies In Finding The Very Few Who Understand What We Mean. As For Outside Rewards, There Is Not One That I Have Ever Discovered.

Tilling The Fertile Soil Of Man's Vanity.

I've Liked Life Well Enough, But I Reckon I'll Like Death Even Better As Soon As I've Gotten Used To The Feel Of It. ... I Shouldn't Be Amazed To Find It Less Lonely Than Life After I'm Once Safely Settled.