Four things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

We were all imitative. We all wandered in after Miss Edna St. Vincent Millay. We were all being dashing and gallant, declaring we weren't virgins, whether we were or not.

I'm of the glamorous ladies At whose beckoning history shook. But you are a man, and see only my pan, So I stay at home with a book.

Of course I talk to myself. I like a good speaker, and I appreciate an intelligent audience.

He lies below, correct in cypress wood, And entertains the most exclusive worms.

Upton Sinclair is his own King Charles' head. He cannot keep himself out of his writings, try though he may; or, by this time, try though he doesn't.

I hate almost all rich people, but I think I’d be darling at it.