Perhaps that suspicion of fraud enhances the flavor.
The lucky man is he who knows how much to leave to chance.
Novel writing is far and away the most exhausting work I know.
I must be like the princess who felt the pea through seven mattresses; each book is a pea.
There is still need to think and plan, but on a different scale, and along different lines.
There is no other way of writing a novel than to begin at the beginning at to continue to the end.
The fools ran after me and I ran after the whores, foolish though I realized such a proceeding to be.
A man who writes for a living does not have to go anywhere in particular, and he could rarely afford to if he wanted.
They managed to find time... to tell me that there was no chance of my being accepted for service and that really I should be surprised to still be alive.