Yes. Being in a garret doesn’t do you any good unless you’re some sort of a Keats. The people who lived and wrote well in the twenties were comfortable and easy living. They were able to find stories and novels, and good ones, in conflicts that came out of two million dollars a year, not a garret. And I’d like to be a good writer. These two can come together, and I hope they will, but if that’s too adorable, I’d rather have money. I hate almost all rich people, but I think I’d be hink I’d be darling at it. At the moment, however, I like to think of Maurice Baring’s remark: “If you would know what the Lord God thinks of money, you have only to look at those to whom he gives it.” I realize that’s not much help when the wolf comes scratching at the door, but it’s a comfort.
Dorothy Parker Knows Best.
(Source: deforest)
Pablo Picasso, Ink drawing, 1931.
(Source: ashley-rebecca)
(Source: tiedyeskin)
One thing that always worried me,’ she said slowly, smiling at Warren, ‘there is so much in the world to read, so much to learn, if you once got seriously started, how could you stop?
(Source: artola)
