Indeed there has never been any explanation of the ebb and flow in our veins--of happiness and unhappiness.
Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun might set and rise in it and we might take the blue of midday and the black of midnight and be cast
Therefore I would ask you to write all kinds of books, hesitating at no subject however trivial or however vast. By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of t
By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream
Life for both sexes is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle. More than anything... it calls for confidence in oneself.
It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.
For if this young man were to write, he would write as a woman writes, so that one will never be able to tell his sex again.
The beauty of the world... has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
Fiction is like a spider’s web, attached ever so lightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners.
For it would seem — her case proved it — that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person.
A good essay must have this permanent quality about it; it must draw its curtain round us, but it must be a curtain that shuts us in not out.
Every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.
The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity.
Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money.
The past only comes back when the present runs so smoothly that it is like the sliding surface of a deep river.
I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything.
We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.
I can't even think of how I shall want you when it comes to that. Because it's all such a dream, that I sometimes wonder if it can really have happened.
I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don't know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness.
No man or woman of worth, no artist worth their salt, was ever happy doing work that stifled their souls.
Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.
Lock up your libraries if you like, but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.
All day I have been trying to find words for what this experience is like ... But it is no use. I cannot find any words that will not sound either inflated or sentimental or overstrained.
Viết giống như tình dục. Đầu tiên bạn làm điều đó vì tình yêu, sau đó bạn làm điều đó cho bạn bè, và sau đó bạn làm điều đó vì tiền