What Is Writing But An Expression Of

I Am Tired. My Arm Aches. My Head Boils. My Feet Are Cold. But I Am Not Aware Of Any Weakness.

Writing Was Like Digging Coal. I Sweat Blood. The Spell Is On Me.

I Did Not Have One Bad Spell During Writing - An Unprecedented Record.

Today I Began The Novel That I Determined To Be Great.

Before Exulatation Had Vanished, I Felt As If I Had Been Granted A Marvellous Privilege. Out Of The Inscrutable Waters A Beautiful Fish Had Somehow Leaped To Show Me Fleetingly The Life And Spirit Of His Element.