Some stories, my property, have been stolen. Someone's appropriated them. It's an illicit act. It's unfair. Suppose you had a coat you liked, and somebody went into your closet and stole it. That's how I feel.
If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she's late? Nobody.
It was a very stupid thing to do, I'll admit, but I hardly didn't even know I was doing it.
Its really hard to be roommates with people if your suitcases are much better than theirs.
I don't really deeply feel that anyone needs an airtight reason for quoting from the works of writers he loves, but it's always nice, I'll grant you, if he has one.
I don't necessarily intend to publish posthumously, but I do like to write for myself.
