The Transcendental Point Of View, The Habit

Doesn't All Experience Crumble In The End To Mere Literary Material?

Cruelty Is The Only Sin.

A Self-made Martyr Is A Poor Thing.

As Far Back As I Remember, Long Before I Could Write, I Had Played At Making Stories. But Not Until I Was Seven Or More, Did I Begin To Pray Every Night, "o God, Let Me Write Books! Please, God, Let Me Write Books!"

For My Own Purpose, I Defined The Art Of Fiction As Experience Illuminated.