I have always admired the Esquimaux (Eskimos). One fine day a delicious meal is cooked for dear old mother, and then she goes walking away over the ice, and doesn't come back.

Time is the best killer.

One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.

Fey...a Scotch word...It means the kind of exalted happiness that comes before disaster. You know--it's too good to be true.

Evil is not something superhuman, it's something less than human.

It's what's in *yourself* that makes you happy or unhappy.

Writers are diffident creatures -- they need encouragement.