Words are a commodity in which there is never any slump.
Truth is what every man sees lurking at the bottom of his own soul, like the oyster shell housewives put in the kitchen kettle to collect the lime from the water. By and by each man's iridescent oyster shell of Truth becomes coated with the lime of prejudice and hearsay.
Fifty percent of the world are women, yet they always seem a novelty.
The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.
Life is a foreign language; all men mispronounce it.
New York, the nation's thyroid gland.