Novel writing is far and away the most exhausting work I know. C. S. Forester More Quotes by C. S. Forester More Quotes From C. S. Forester When a man who is drinking neat gin starts talking about his mother he is past all argument. C. S. Forester mom mother drinking The lucky man is he who knows how much to leave to chance. C. S. Forester lucky chance men A man who writes for a living does not have to go anywhere in particular, and he could rarely afford to if he wanted. C. S. Forester doe writing men Novel writing wrecks homes. C. S. Forester wrecks home writing I'd rather be in trouble for having done something than for not having done anything. C. S. Forester done trouble When I die there may be a paragraph or two in the newspapers. My name will linger in the British Museum Reading Room catalogue for a space at the head of a long list of books for which no one will ever ask. C. S. Forester space reading book The work is with me when I wake up in the morning; it is with me while I eat my breakfast in bed and run through the newspaper, while I shave and bathe and dress. C. S. Forester bed running morning There is no other way of writing a novel than to begin at the beginning at to continue to the end. C. S. Forester ends writing way I formed a resolution to never write a word I did not want to write; to think only of my own tastes and ideals, without a thought of those of editors or publishers. C. S. Forester editors writing thinking I did not ask for objections, but for comments, or helpful suggestions. I looked for more loyalty from you, Captain Hornblower.' That made the whole argument pointless. If Leighton only wanted servile agreement there was no sense in continuing. C. S. Forester captains loyalty agreement Everything was in stark and dreadful contrast with the trivial crises and counterfeit emotions of Hollywood, and I returned to England deeply moved and emotionally worn out. C. S. Forester hollywood england emotion Clairvoyant, Hornblower could foresee that in a year's time, the world would hardy remember the incident. In twenty years, it would be entirely forgotten. Yet those headless corpses up there in Muzillac; those shattered redcoats; those Frenchmen caught in the four-pounder's blast of canister -- they were as dead as if it had been a day in which history had been changed. C. S. Forester twenties would-be years I must be like the princess who felt the pea through seven mattresses; each book is a pea. C. S. Forester seven princess book Perhaps that suspicion of fraud enhances the flavor. C. S. Forester fraud hype flavor I have heard of novels started in the middle, at the end, written in patches to be joined together later, but I have never felt the slightest desire to do this. C. S. Forester ends together desire A whim, a passing mood, readily induces the novelist to move hearth and home elsewhere. He can always plead work as an excuse to get him out of the clutches of bothersome hosts. C. S. Forester novelists home moving I thank God daily for the good fortune of my birth, for I am certain I would have made a miserable peasant. C. S. Forester miserable birth thank-god The fools ran after me and I ran after the whores, foolish though I realized such a proceeding to be. C. S. Forester i-realized fool stupid Damn my eyes. Damn my soul. Glorious! C. S. Forester Today is Sunday, sir," said Bush, simply. C. S. Forester
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