How some of the writers I come across get through their books without dying of boredom is beyond me.

Stupidity is the deliberate cultivation of ignorance.

Why do you treat me as they do, as though I were exactly what I want to be. Why do we treat people that way?

What’s any artist, but the dregs of his work?

What's any artist, but the dregs of his work? the human shambles that follows it around. What's left of the man when the work's done but a shambles of apology.

If you want to make a million you don't have to understand money, what you have to understand is people's fears about money

That was Youth with its reckless exuberance when all things were possible pursued by Age where we are now, looking back at what we destroyed, what we tore away from that self who could do more, and its work that's become my enemy because that's what I can tell you about, that Youth who could do anything.