I want to look at life - at the commonplaces of existence - as if we had just turned a corner and run into it for the first time.

We are all of us lost. The best we can do is make whatever we’re lost in as much like home as we can.

Am I supposed to be merely exercising my tongue Or am I being listened to?

Thomas, only another Fifty years or so and then I promise to let you go.

It’s always our touches of vanity that manage to betray us.

You have cut yourself a shape on the air, which may be My scar.

My trouble is I’m the sort of writer who only finds out what he’s getting at by the time he’s got to the end of it.

The trees were as bright as a shower of broken glass.

Day’s work is still to do, Whatever the day’s doom.

An artist’s sensitivity to criticism is, at least in part, an effort to keep unimpaired the zest, or confidence, or arrogance, which he needs to make creation possible; or an instinct to climb through his problems in his own way as he should, and must.