A happy childhood can't be cured. Mine'll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that's all, instead of a noose. |
Every art is a church without communicants, presided over by a parish of the respectable. An artist is born kneeling; he fights to stand. A critic, by nature of the judgment seat, is born sitting. |
First publication is a pure, carnal leap into that dark which one dreams is life. |
The words! I collected them in all shapes and sizes and hung them like bangles in my mind. |
When anything gets freed, a zest goes round the world. |