I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.

All men are lonely. But sometimes it seems to me that we Americans are the loneliest of all. Our hunger for foreign places and new ways has been with us almost like a national disease. Our literature is stamped with a quality of longing and unrest, and our writers have been great wanderers.

The theme is the theme of humiliation, which is the square root of sin, as opposed to the freedom from humiliation, and love, which is the square root of wonderful.

Once you have lived with another, it is a great torture to have to live alone.

We are homesick most for the places we have never known.

I see a green tree. And to me it is green. And you would call the tree green also. And we would agree on this. But is the colour you see as green the same colour I see as green?

And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being loved is intolerable to many.