Mystification Is Simple; Clarity Is The Hardest

The Best Life For A Writer Is The Life Which Helps Him Write The Best Books He Can.

Love May Not Lead Where We Think Or Hope, But Regardless Of Outcome It Should Be A Call To Seriousness And Truth. If It Is Not That - If It Is Not Moral In Its Effect - Then Love Is No More Than An Exaggerated Form Of Pleasure.

Early In Life, The World Divides Crudely Into Those Who Have Had Sex And Those Who Haven't. Later, Into Those Who Have Known Love, And Those Who Haven't. Later Still - At Least, If We Are Lucky (or, On The Other Hand, Unlucky) - It Divides Into Those Who Have Endured Grief, And Those Who Haven't. These Divisions Are Absolute; They Are Tropics We Cross.

(on Grief) And You Do Come Out Of It, That’s True. After A Year, After Five. But You Don’t Come Out Of It Like A Train Coming Out Of A Tunnel, Bursting Through The Downs Into Sunshine And That Swift, Rattling Descent To The Channel; You Come Out Of It As A Gull Comes Out Of An Oil-slick. You Are Tarred And Feathered For Life.

When You're Young - When I Was Young - You Want Your Emotions To Be Like The Ones You Read About In Books. You Want Them To Overturn Your Life, Create And Define A New Reality. Later, I Think, You Want Them To Do Something Milder, Something More Practical: You Want Them To Support Your Life As It Is And Has Become. You Want Them To Tell You That Things Are Ok. And Is There Anything Wrong With That?