I, myself, was always recognized . . . as the “slow one” in the family. It was quite true, and I knew it and accepted it. Writing and spelling were always terribly difficult for me. My letters were without originality. I was . . . an extraordinarily bad speller and have remained so until this day.

Writing is a great comfort to people like me, who are unsure of themselves and have trouble expressing themselves properly.

To put it quite crudely ... the poor don't really know how the rich live, and the rich don't know how the poor live, and to find out is really enchanting to both of them.

With method and logic one can accomplish anything.

They tried to be too clever---and that was their undoing.

I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming... suddenly you find - at the age of 50, say - that a whole new life has opened before you.

"Look here," I said, "people like to collect disasters."