Only Art Means Anything.

I Really Think I Write About Everyday Life. I Don't Think I'm Quite As Odd As Others Say I Am. Life Is Intrinsically, Well, Boring And Dangerous At The Same Time. At Any Given Moment The Floor May Open Up. Of Course, It Almost Never Does; That's What Makes It So Boring.

If You're Doing Nonsense It Has To Be Rather Awful, Because There'd Be No Point.

Such Excess Of Passion Is Quite Out Of Fashion

Some Tiny Creature, Mad With Wrath, Is Coming Nearer On The Path.

All The Things You Can Talk About In Anyone's Work Are The Things That Are Least Important.