They Think My Mother's Ashes Are Marijuana.

That Instinct For Human Character That Is Perhaps Inherent In An Imaginative Writer.

A Ruling Passion Gives To A Shelf Of Novels The Unity Of A System.

Perhaps The Sexual Life Is The Great Test. If We Can Survive It With Charity To Those We Love And With Affection To Those We Have Betrayed, We Needn't Worry So Much About The Good And The Bad In Us. But Jealousy, Distrust, Cruelty, Revenge, Recrimination ... Then We Fail. The Wrong Is In That Failure Even If We Are The Victims And Not The Executioners. Virtue Is No Excuse.

I've Caught Belief Like A Disease. I've Fallen Into Belief Like I Fell In Love.

Cruel Men Cry Easily At The Cinema.