Dear, I can’t write, it’s all a fantasy: a kind of circling obsession.

There is bad in all good authors: what a pity the converse isn’t true!

Saki says that youth is like hors d’oeuvres: you are so busy thinking of the next courses you don’t notice it. When you’ve had them, you wish you’d had more hors d’oeuvres.

Morning, noon & bloody night,Seven sodding days a week,I slave at filthy WORK, that mightBe done by any book-drunk freak.This goes on until I kick the bucket.FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT

I feel the only thing you can do about life is to preserve it, by art if you’re an artist, by children if you’re not.

Everyone should be forcibly transplanted to another continent from their family at the age of three.