If the writing is honest it cannot be separated from the man who wrote it.

Why did I write? Because I found life unsatisfactory.

When I stop working the rest of the day is posthumous. I'm only really alive when I'm writing.

Why did I write? Because I found life unsatisfactory

But I think the spirit of man is a good adversary

Oh, you weak, beautiful people who give up with such grace. What you need is someone to take hold of you - gently, with love, and hand your life back to you.