"But every fool describes, in these bright days,His wondrous journey to some foreign court,And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise,—Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport."

“I like the idea of a literary patchwork, novel by novel, poem by poem, by different writers, mapping out an era, 'a continent' more and more thoroughly. No one writer can do it.”

“Les sots font le texte, et les hommes d'esprit les commentaires.”

“An author in his book must be like God in the universe, present everywhere and visible nowhere. (9 December 1852)”

“All I knew then was what I couldn't do. All I knew then was what I wasn't, and it took me some years to discover what I was.Which was a writer.By which I mean not a “good” writer or a “bad” writer but simply a writer, a person whose most absorbed and passionate hours are spent arranging words on pieces of paper.”

“And hold up to the sun my little taper.”

“But words are things, and a small drop of ink,Falling, like dew, upon a thought producesThat which makes thousands, perhaps millions think.”