The desire to confess. . . lies at the root of most fiction writing.
A state of affairs which leads to daily vexation is not the right state.
The moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, power and grace.
You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.
If you want a wise answer, ask a reasonable question.
I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. . . . In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or is dehumanized.
Everything is hard before it is easy.
I've always been conscious of my weight.
When Life knocks at the door no one can wait, When Death makes his arrest we have to go.
Madame Bovary is one my favorite novels. Emma Bovary will always be an enigma, but as the years pass, I feel that I understand her better. She has a violent nostalgia, almost an infantile nostalgia, to be understood by the men surrounding her. I like her relentless fight for independence, her rebellion against the mediocre, and her quest for the sublime, even if she burns her wigs in the process. I like that Flaubert never judges her morally for her self-destructiveness, for her desperate attempt to satisfy her wildest desires and appetites.
I have offered myself to the inkwell of the wordsmith that I might be shaped into new terms of being.