“The true poet has no choice of material. The material plainly chooses him, not he it.”
More from J. D. Salinger
“I pretended she was you.”
“I don’t love her any more, either. I don’t know. I do and I don’t. It varies. It…”
“I just hope that one day—preferably when we're both blind drunk—we can talk about it.”
“...she was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their…”