I was interested by the idea that artists working in a totalitarian dictatorship or tsarist autocracy are secretly and slightly shamefully envied by artists who work in freedom. They have the gratification of intense interest: the authorities want to put them in jail while there are younger readers for whom what they write is pure oxygen.

Let judges secretly despair of justice: their verdicts will be more acute. Let generals secretly despair of triumph killing will be defamed. Let priests secretly despair of faith: their compassion will be true.

The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground secretly making the ground green.

I think most of the people involved in any art always secretly wonder whether they are really there because they're good or there because they're lucky.

It's a little silly to finally learn how to write at this age. But I long ago realized I was secretly sincere.