Approaching forty, I had a singular dream in which I almost grasped the meaning and understood the nature of what it is that wastes in wasted time.

The only way for writers to meet is to share a quick peek over a common lamp-post.

The friendships which last are those wherein each friend respects the other's dignity to the point of not really wanting anything from him.

The shock, for an intelligent writer, of discovering for the first time that there are people younger than himself who think him stupid is severe.

Two weeks before his death, a friend asked him half jokingly if he had discovered any meaning in life. "Yes," he replied, "there is a meaning; at least, for me, there is one thing that matters - to set a chime of words tinkling in the minds of a few fastidious people."

No one can achieve Serenity until the glare of passion is past the meridian.

We create the world in which we live; if that world becomes unfit for human life, it is because we tire of our responsibility.