Novel Writing Wrecks Homes.

A Man Who Writes For A Living Does Not Have To Go Anywhere In Particular, And He Could Rarely Afford To If He Wanted.

Everything Was In Stark And Dreadful Contrast With The Trivial Crises And Counterfeit Emotions Of Hollywood, And I Returned To England Deeply Moved And Emotionally Worn Out.

There Is No Other Way Of Writing A Novel Than To Begin At The Beginning At To Continue To The End.

A Whim, A Passing Mood, Readily Induces The Novelist To Move Hearth And Home Elsewhere. He Can Always Plead Work As An Excuse To Get Him Out Of The Clutches Of Bothersome Hosts.

When A Man Who Is Drinking Neat Gin Starts Talking About His Mother He Is Past All Argument.