The Past Exudes Legend: One Can't Make

Writing Is A Mode Of Being. If I Write I Live.

One's Fantasy Goes For A Walk And Returns With A Bride.

You Write By Sitting Down And Writing. There's No Particular Time Or Place—you Suit Yourself, Your Nature. How One Works, Assuming He's Disciplined, Doesn't Matter.

Charity You Can Give Even When You Haven't Got.

Some Men Are By Nature Explorers; My Nature Is To Stay Under The Same Moon And Stars, And If The Weather Is Wet, Under The Same Roof. It's A Strange World, Why Make It Stranger?