I Swear, If You Existed I'd Divorce

Well, When I Was Six Years Old I Decided, Not That I Was Going To Be, But With My Usual Modesty, That I Was A Writer.

When You Get Old, You Can't Talk To People Because People Snap At You.... That's Why You Become Deaf, So You Won't Be Able To Hear People Talking To You That Way.

I Have A Fine Sense Of The Ridiculous, But No Sense Of Humor.

I Find That In The Course Of The Day When I'm Writing, After Three Or Four Hours Of Intense Work, I Have A Splitting Headache, And I Have To Stop. Because The Involvement, Which Is Both Creative And Self-critical, Is So Intense That I've Got To Stop Doing It.

One Must Let The Play Happen To One; One Must Let The Mind Loose To Respond As It Will, To Receive Impressions, To Sense Rather Than Know, To Gather Rather Than Immediately Understand.