C. S. Forester

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 #formed #i #ideals #my own

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

#anywhere #could #does #go #living

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

#clutches #elsewhere #excuse #get #hearth

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

#counterfeit #crises #deeply #dreadful #emotionally

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

#end #felt #heard #i #joined

I must be like the princess who felt the pea through seven mattresses; each book is a pea. ↗

— C. S. Forester

#each #felt #i #like #mattresses

Novel writing is far and away the most exhausting work I know. ↗

— C. S. Forester

#exhausting #far #i #know #most

Novel writing wrecks homes. ↗

— C. S. Forester

#novel #wrecks #writing

Perhaps that suspicion of fraud enhances the flavor. ↗

— C. S. Forester

#flavor #fraud #perhaps #suspicion

The doctor who applied a stethoscope to my heart was not satisfied. I was told to get my papers with the clerk in the outer hall. I was medically rejected. ↗

— C. S. Forester

#clerk #doctor #get #hall #heart