When A Man Who Is Drinking Neat

When A Man Who Is Drinking Neat Gin Starts Talking About His Mother He Is Past All Argument.

I Have Heard Of Novels Started In The Middle, At The End, Written In Patches To Be Joined Together Later, But I Have Never Felt The Slightest Desire To Do This.

Clairvoyant, Hornblower Could Foresee That In A Year's Time, The World Would Hardy Remember The Incident. In Twenty Years, It Would Be Entirely Forgotten. Yet Those Headless Corpses Up There In Muzillac; Those Shattered Redcoats; Those Frenchmen Caught In The Four-pounder's Blast Of Canister -- They Were As Dead As If It Had Been A Day In Which History Had Been Changed.

There Is No Other Way Of Writing A Novel Than To Begin At The Beginning At To Continue To The End.

A Man Who Writes For A Living Does Not Have To Go Anywhere In Particular, And He Could Rarely Afford To If He Wanted.