Security Is A False God. Begin To

It's Very Hard To Write About That Which Is Always Beautiful And Pleasant And Good. You Don't Get Anywhere With It. There's No Friction In It. There's No Trouble. You Have To Have Trouble. Somebody's Got To Get In Trouble, Or No One Wants To Read It.

The Act Of Living Had Been Enjoyable; At Some Point When I Was Not Paying Attention, It Had Turned Into A Different Sort Of Experience, To Whose Grimness I Had Grown So Accustomed That I Now Took It For Granted.

Publishers Are Thieves, They Are On The Other Side Of The Barricade.

She Was Saved From Prettiness By The Intensity Of Her Gaze.

He Awoke, Opened His Eye. The Room Meant Very Little To Him; He Was Too Deeply Immersed In The Non-being From Which He Had Just Come. If He Had Not The Energy To Ascertain His Position In Time And Space, He Also Lacked The Desire. ... In Utter Comfort, Utter Relaxation He Lay Absolutely Still For A While, And Then Sank Back Into On The The Light Momentary Sleeps That Occur After A Long, Profound One.