Garlic, Like Perfume, Must Be

Personal Publicity Is Apt To Be Dangerous To Any Writer's Integrity; For The Moment He Begins To Fancy Himself As Quite A Person, A Taint Creeps Into His Work.

Lives Are Only One With Living. How Dare We, In Our Egos, Claim Catastrophe In The Rise And Fall Of The Individual Entity? There Is Only Life, And We Are Beads Strung On Its Strong And Endless Thread.

A Woman Never Forgets The Men She Could Have Had; A Man, The Women He Couldn't

Ants In The House Seem To Be, Not Intruders, But The Owners.

It Is My Conviction That The Personality Of The Writer Has Nothing To Do With The Literate Product Of His Mind. And Publicity In This Case Embarrasses Me Because I Am Acutely Conscious Of How Far Short The Book Falls Of The Artistry I Am Struggling To Achieve. It's Like Being Caught Half-dressed.