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"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."
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"The moment comes when a character does or says something you hadn't thought about. At that moment he's alive and you leave it to him."

"Never underestimate the power of a simple thought."

"I took thought, and invented what I conceived to be the appropriate title of 'agnostic'."

"I thought it completely absurd to mention my name in the same breath as the presidency."

"In Socrates' thought the two marks of individual self-consciousness appear; it is practical and it is social."
Explore more quotes by C. S. Forester

"With two people and luggage on board she draws four inches of water. Two canoe paddles will move her along at a speed reasonable enough in moderate currents."

"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."

"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."

"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."

"They managed to find time... to tell me that there was no chance of my being accepted for service and that really I should be surprised to still be alive."

"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."

"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."

"A man who writes for a living does not have to go anywhere in particular, and he could rarely afford to if he wanted."

"The material came bubbling up inside like a geyser or an oil gusher. It streamed up of its own accord, down my arm and out of my fountain pen in a torrent of six thousand words a day."
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