When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Each time I see a split infinitive, an inconsistent tense structure or the unnecessary use of the passive voice, I blister.
If I'm going to break them, I'm going to break them both.
Better break your word than do worse in keeping it.
We are separated from God on two sides; the Fall separates us from Him, the Tree of Life separates Him from us.
I love the expression that 'When your Bible is falling apart, the man isn't.'
Whatever's going on with me at the time of writing is going to find its way into the piece. If that doesn't happen, then what the hell am I doing? So if I'm writing 'Inglourious Basterds,' and I'm in love with a girl and we break up, that's going to find its way into the piece.
I just can't break. If I break, I'm done. So I don't break.
The word is the Verb, and the Verb is God.
I am an artist and have no right buggering about with verbs and split infinitives, which is what being a writer says to me.
It was an instinct to put the world in order that powered her mending split infinitives and snipping off dangling participles, smoothing away the knots and bumps until the prose before her took on a sheen, like perfect caramel.