When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen. But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any way you can.

When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen.

Still, I may have been glad to scratch the dry surface of our day-to-day peaceableness the way Violetta had clawed the sere crust on her limbs, anything to get something bright and liquid flowing again, out in the open and slippery between our fingers.

I get this terrible itch. An itch I can only scratch with a pen or a keyboard.

One learns to itch where one can scratch.

Scratch first, itch later.