There Is No Fury Like An Ex-wife

The Expulsion From Eden Is An Act Of Vindictive Womanish Spite; The Fall Of Man, As Recounted In The Bible, Comes Nearer To The Fall Of God.

When I Write After Dark The Shades Of Evening Scatter Their Purple Through My Prose.

The Artist Secretes Nostalgia Around Life.

A Writer Is In Danger Of Allowing His Talent To Dull Who Lets More Than A Year Go Past Without Finding Himself In His Rightful Place Of Composition, The Small Single Unluxurious Retreat Of The Twentieth Century, The Hotel Bedroom.

Better To Write For Yourself And Have No Public, Than To Write For The Public And Have No Self.