I Love My Work But Do Not

I See So Much More Than I Used To See. The Effect Has Been To Depress And Sadden And Hurt Me Terribly.

This Motion-picture Muddle Had Distracted Me From My Writing.

These Critics Who Crucify Me Do Not Guess The Littlest Part Of My Sincerity. They Must Be Burned In A Blaze. I Cannot Learn From Them.

It Was A Decent New Year's, But It Took A Million Officers To Make It So.

What Is Writing But An Expression Of My Own Life?