I spit on your happiness! I spit on your idea of life--that life that must go on, come what may. You are all like dogs that lick everything they smell. You with your promise of a humdrum happiness--provided a person doesn't ask much of life. I want everything of life, I do; and I want it now! I want it total, complete: otherwise I reject it! I will not be moderate. I will not be satisfied with the bit of cake you offer me if I promise to be a good little girl. I want to be sure of everything this very day; sure that everything will be as beautiful as when I was a little girl. If not, I want to die!
Talent is a faucet. When it is on, one must write. Inspiration is a farce that poets have invented to give themselves importance.
We poison our lives with fear of burglary and shipwreck and ask anyone the house is never burgled and the ship never goes down.
To say yes you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no even if saying no means death.
We poison our lives with fear of burglary and shipwreck and ... the house is never burgled and the ship never goes down.
God is on everyone's side... and in the last analysis, he is on the side with plenty of money and large armies.