Writing (n.) a death warrant should make you hate the fact that you can write.
Writing (n.) gives body to what reading gathers: write and read by turns, for constant writing exhausts us and constant reading dilutes us.
Writing (n.) is good when it makes clear the author meant what he wrote — his aim to have you know what pleased him, not to please you.
Writing (n.) without reading exhausts the strength, and reading without writing makes it flabby and watery: alternate them, so the pen gives your reading concrete form.
Writing (n.) should seek what to say rather than how — and that not in order to write, but to feel it, and so set a seal on what you have felt.