Prose Is Architecture, Not Interior Decoration, And

Having Books Published Is Very Destructive To Writing.

Do Not Think About Sin, He Thought. There Are Enough Problems Now Without Sin. Also I Have No Understanding Of It.

You Belong To Me And All Paris Belongs To Me And I Belong To This Notebook And This Pencil.

For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never Worn.

Poor Faulkner. Does He Really Think Big Emotions Come From Big Words?