 I am tired. My arm aches. My head boils. My feet are cold. But I am not aware of any weakness. |
| I wrote for nearly six hours. When I stopped, the dark mood, as if by magic, had folded its cloak and gone away. |
| I need this wild life, this freedom. |
| I will see this game of life out to its bitter end. |
| Love of man for woman - love of woman for man. That's the nature, the meaning, the best of life itself. |
| Every once in a while I feel the tremendous force of the novel. But it does not stay with me. |
| What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death. |
| The difficulty, the ordeal, is to start. |
| No one connected intimately with a writer has any appreciation of his temperament, except to think him overdoing everything. |
| Work is my salvation. It changes my moods. |
| I did not have one bad spell during writing - an unprecedented record. |
| These critics who crucify me do not guess the littlest part of my sincerity. They must be burned in a blaze. I cannot learn from them. |
| Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply. |
| I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me. |
| The Indian story has never been written. Maybe I am the man to do it. |
| I love my work but do not know how I write it. |
| I am full of fire and passion. I am not ready yet for great concentration and passion. |
| This motion-picture muddle had distracted me from my writing. |
| What is writing but an expression of my own life? |
| I confess that reading proofs is a pleasure. It stimulates and inspires me. |
