The Art Of Writing Is To Explain

You Should Think About Nobody And Go Your Own Way, Not On A Course Marked Out For You By People Holding Mugs Of Water And Bottles Of Iodine In Case You Fall And Cut Yourself So That They Can Pick You Up - Even If You Want To Stay Where You Are - And Get You Moving Again.

I Realized It Might Be Possible To Do Such A Thing, Run For Money, Trot For Wages On Piece Work At A Bob A Puff Rising Bit By Bit To A Guinea A Gasp And Retiring Through Old Age At Thirty-two Because Of Lace-curtain Lungs, A Football Heart, And Legs Like Varicose Beanstalks.

I'm Me And Nobody Else; And Whatever People Think I Am Or Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, Because They Don't Know A Bloody Thing About Me.

It's A Treat Being A Runner, Out In The World By Yourself With Not A Soul To Make You Bad-tempered Or Tell You What To Do.

Everybody Thinks Theyll Never Get Married At Your Age. You Think You Can Go On All Your Life Being Single, But You Suddenly Find Out That You Cant.