“There's life for you. Spend the best years of your life studying penmanship and rhetoric and syntax and Beowulf and George Eliot, and then somebody steals your pencil.”

“The days will rally, wreathingTheir crazy tarantelle;And you must go on breathing,But I'll be safe in hell.Like January weather,The years will bite and smart,And pull your bones togetherTo wrap your chattering heart.The pretty stuff you're made ofWill crack and crease and dry.The thing you are afraid ofWill look from every eye.You will go faltering afterThe bright, imperious line,And split your throat on laughter,And burn your eyes with brine.You will be frail and mustyWith peering, furtive head,Whilst I am young and lustyAmong the roaring dead.”

“You think You're frightening me with Your hell, don't You? You think Your hell is worse than mine.”

“Be you wise and never sad,You will get your lovely lad.Never serious be, nor true,And your wish will come to you--And if that makes you happy, kid,You'll be the first it ever did.”

“Lady, lady, never startConversation toward your heart;Keep your pretty words serene;Never murmur what you mean.Show yourself, by word and look,Swift and shallow as a brook.Be as cool and quick to goAs a drop of April snow;Be as delicate and gayAs a cherry flower in May.Lady, lady, never speakOf the tears that burn your cheek-She will never win him, whoseWords had shown she feared to lose.Be you wise and never sad,You will get your lovely lad.Never serious be, nor true,And your wish will come to you-And if that makes you happy, kid,You'll be the first it ever did.”

“If you're going to write, don't pretend to write down. It's going to be the best you can do, and it's the fact that it's the best you can do that kills you.”

“Hold your pen and spare your voice.”