Revenge Was A Very Wild Kind Of

Nothing Can Happen Nowhere. The Locale Of The Happening Always Colours The Happening, And Often, To A Degree, Shapes It.

Yes, Writing A Novel, My Boy, Is Like Driving Pigs To Market - You Have One Of Them Making A Bolt Down The Wrong Lane; Another Won't Get Over The Right Stile.

The Wish To Lead Out One's Lover Must Be A Tribal Feeling; The Wish To Be Seen As Loved Is Part Of One's Self-respect.

Dialogue Should Convey A Sense Of Spontaneity But Eliminate The Repetitiveness Of Real Talk.

Rudeness To Mrs. Dosely Was Like Dropping A Pat Of Butter On To A Hot Plate - It Slid And Melted Away.