It's Tremendous: This World, This Life. Take

Normally, What You’re Envious Of Is A Book, Not A Writer: Standards, Ideas, Levels … Almost Nonexistent Things.

A Film Writer Is Very Much Like A Party Girl. While You're Good-looking And Still Unlined, The Possibilities Seem Endless. But Your Appeal Doesn't Last Long And You're Quickly Discarded.

Of Them All, It Was The True Love. Of Them All, It Was The Best. That Other Sumptuous Love Which Made One Drunk, Which One Longed For, Envied, Believed In, That Was Not Life. It Was What Life Was Seeking; It Was A Suspension Of Life. But To Be Close To A Child, For Whom One Spent Everything, Whose Life Was Protected And Nourished By One's Own, To Have That Child Beside One, At Peace, Was The Real, The Deepest, The Only Joy.

Dialogue's A Method Of Revelation, Of Course. A Few Words Of Dialogue Can Reveal Worlds About A Character.

A Light Snow, A Snow So Faint And Small-bodied That It Seems Nothing More Than A Manifestation Of The Cold.