It Is Not That Death Comes, But

Readers Themselves, I Think, Contribute To A Book. They Add Their Own Imaginations, And It Is As Though The Writer Only Gave Them Something To Work On, And They Did The Rest.

Information Can Be Passed From One To Another, Like A Silver Dollar. There's Absolutely No Wisdom Except What You Learn For Yourself.

Personal Publicity Is Apt To Be Dangerous To Any Writer's Integrity; For The Moment He Begins To Fancy Himself As Quite A Person, A Taint Creeps Into His Work.

No, I Most Certainly Do Not Think Advertising People Are Wonderful. I Think They Are Horrible, And The Worst Menace To Mankind, Next To War; Perhaps Ahead Of War. They Stand For The Material Viewpoint, For The Importance Of Possessions, Of Desire, Of Envy, Of Greed. And War Comes From These Things.

It Is My Conviction That The Personality Of The Writer Has Nothing To Do With The Literate Product Of His Mind. And Publicity In This Case Embarrasses Me Because I Am Acutely Conscious Of How Far Short The Book Falls Of The Artistry I Am Struggling To Achieve. It's Like Being Caught Half-dressed.