John Galsworthy

John Galsworthy

The Writer (1914)

Summary

Portrait of John Galsworthy John Galsworthy,  The Writer (1914)

“ This wonderful Infinity! I must get more of it—more of it into my work; more of the feeling that the whole is marvelous and great, and man a little clutch of breath and dust, an atom, a straw, a nothing!"
And a sort of exaltation would seize on him, so that he knew that if only he did get that into his work, as he wished to, as he felt at that moment that he could, he would be the greatest writer the world had ever seen, the greatest man, almost greater than he wished to be, almost too great to be mentioned in the press, greater than Infinity itself—for would he not be Infinity's creator?
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of John Galsworthy John Galsworthy,  The Writer (1914)

“ This would be followed in the evening by a disinclination to live; and that feeling would grow until on the third day he received his letters together with a green-colored wrapper enclosing some mentions of himself, and he would say: "Those fellows—no getting away from them!" and feel irresistibly impelled to sit down. Having done so he would take up his pen, not writing anything, indeed, because of the determination to "live," as yet not quite extinct, but comparatively easy in his mind. ”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of John Galsworthy John Galsworthy,  The Writer (1914)

“ It was during those hours when he sat in a certain chair with a pen in his hand that he was able to rest from thought about himself; save, indeed, in those moments, not too frequent, when he could not help reflecting: "That's a fine page—I have seldom written anything better"; or in those moments, too frequent, when he sighed deeply, and thought: "I am not the man I was." About half-past one he would get up with the pages in his hand and seeking out his wife would give them to her to read, remarking: "Here's the wretched stuff—no good at all" ”
Source: Wikisource

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