He began to seach among the infinite series of impressions which time had laid down, leaf upon leaf, fold upon fold softly, incessantly upon his brain; among scents, sounds; voices, harsh, hollow, sweet; and lights passing, and brooms tapping; and the wash and hush of the sea. To the Lighthouse
It’s not a matter of old or new forms; a person writes without thinking about any forms, he writes because it flows freely from his soul. Seagull
One must fight to get to the top, especially if one starts at the bottom. The Castle
You are a king by your own fireside, as much as any monarch in his throne. Don Quixote
Quotes