“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.”
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“After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love, and I was sure this was a very good story although I would not know truly how good until I read it over the next day.”
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“It's none of their business that you have to learn how to write. Let them think you were born that way.”
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“So far, about morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.”
― Death in the Afternoon
― Death in the Afternoon
Ming’s 2025 Year in Books
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