I don't use a pen. I write with a goose quill dipped in venom.
Even the most deft pen is a clumsy tool.
An ink bottle, which now seems impossibly quaint, was still thinkable as a symbol in 1970.
I came on the old and best ways of writing through ignorance and experiment and was startled when truths leaped out of brushes like quail before gunshot.
The funny thing about writing is I think a lot of people assume that you're sitting in a garret with a quill pen for hour after hour.
Oh, nature's noblest gift, my grey goose quill, Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will, Torn from the parent bird to form a pen, That mighty instrument of little men.
For once the disease of reading has laid upon the system it weakens so that it falls an easy prey to that other scourge which dwells in the ink pot and festers in the quill. The wretch takes to writing.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
