When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.

Seriously, I do not know what to say of this book [ Absalom, Absalom!] except that it seem to point to the final blowup of what was once a remarkable, if minor, talent… this is a penny dreadful tricked up in fancy language and given a specious depth by the expert manipulation of a series of eccentric technical tricks. The characters have no magnitude and no meaning because they have no more reality than a mince-pie nightmare.

A bottle of wine begs to be shared; I have never met a miserly wine lover.

Books act like a developing fluid on film. That is, they bring into consciousness what you didn’t know you knew.

Wine is poetry in a bottle.

I found nothing really wrong with this autobiography except poor choice of subject.

We are all citizens of history.