All Birth Is Unwilling.

There Is No Beauty Without Order.

To Know What One Can Have And To Do With It, Being Prepared For No More, Is The Basis Of Equilibrium.

Never, If You Can Possibly Help It, Write A Novel. It Is, In The First Place, A Thoroughly Unsocial Act. It Makes One Obnoxious To One's Family And To One's Friends. One Sits About For Many Weeks, Months, Even Years, In The Worst Cases, In A State Of Stupefaction.

For Nature Is Not Unjust. She Does Not Steal Into The Womb And Like An Evil Fairy Give Her Good Gifts Secretly To Men And Deny Them To Women. Men And Women Are Born Free And Equal In Ability And Brain. The Injustice Begins After Birth.

The Truly Creative Mind In Any Field Is No More Than This: A Human Creature Born Abnormally, Inhumanly Sensitive. To Him... A Touch Is A Blow, A Sound Is A Noise, A Misfortune Is A Tragedy, A Joy Is An Ecstasy, A Friend Is A Lover, A Lover Is A God, And Failure Is Death.