I began to ration my writing, for fear I would dream through life as my father had done. I was afraid I had inherited a poisoned gene from him, a vocation without a gift.
Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more a man's nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out.
Set me a task in which I can put something of my very self, and it is a task no longer; it is joy; it is art.