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The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear or it may be the wreck of his whole damn life - and one is as good as another.
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I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.
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Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her?
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My big fish must be somewhere.
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Worry destroys the ability to write. Ill health is bad in the ratio that it produces worry which attacks your subconscious and destroys your nerves.
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It seemed out of place to think of consequences during the fiesta.
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In modern war... you will die like a dog for no good reason.
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If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.
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I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
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I've been wondering about Dostoyevsky. How can a man write so badly, so unbelievably badly, and make you feel so deeply?
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My father was a deeply sentimental man. And like all sentimental men, he was also very cruel.
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Critics are men who watch a battle from a high place then come down and shoot the survivors.
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It is one thing to be in the proximity of death, to know more or less what she is, and it is quite another thing to seek her.
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The only thing that can spoil a day is people and if you can keep from making engagements, every day has no limits.
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You make your own luck, Gig. You know what makes a good loser? Practice.
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Listen," I told him. "Don't be so tough so early in the morning. I'm sure you've cut plenty of people's throats. I haven't even had my coffee yet.
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Honor to a Spaniard, no matter how dishonest, is as real a thing as water, wine, or olive oil. There is honor among pickpockets and honor among whores. It is simply that the standards differ.
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Personal columnists are jackals and no jackal has been known to live on grass once he had learned about meat - no matter who killed the meat for him.
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Show the readers everything, tell them nothing.
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I would take anything I love and throw it off the highest cliff you ever saw and not wait to hear it bounce.
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Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a strange life.
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Some writers are only born to help another writer write one sentence.
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To hell with them. Nothing hurts if you don't let it.
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The telephone and visitors are the work destroyers.