Any man worth his salt has by the time he is forty-five accumulated a crown of thorns, and the problem is to learn to wear it over one ear.

If you have to keep reminding yourself of a thing, perhaps it isn't so.

There are certain people whom one feels almost inclined to urge to hurry up and die so that their letters can be published.

Friendships do not grow up in any carefully tended and contemplated fashion.... They begin haphazard.

There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.

New York, the nation's thyroid gland.

There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love, and like that colossal adventure it is an experience of great social import. Even as the tranced swain, the booklover yearns to tell others of his bliss. He writes letters about it, adds it to the postscript of all manner of communications, intrudes it into telephone messages, and insists on his friends writing down the title of the find. Like the simple-hearted betrothed, once certain of his conquest