The Gesture With Which One Generation Guards

A Writer's First Duty Is To Be Clear. Clarity Is An Excellent Virtue. Like All Virtues It Can Be Pursued At Ruinous Cost. Paid, So Far As I Am Concerned, Joyfully.

She Did Not So Much Cook As Assassinate Food.

If The Novel Is Dying, I See No Chance That Dismembering It Will Revive It.

An Animal Is Not Cruel; It Lives Wholly In The Instant Leap On Its Prey, In The Present Taste Of Marrow Or Blood. Cruelty Begins With The Memory, And The Pleasures Of The Memory Are Impure; They Draw Their Strength Along Levels Where No Sun Has Reached.

Each Time That I Have Run Away - And From A Habit It Quickly Became An Illness - I Have Betrayed Someone. Myself, But Not Always Only Myself.