You do what you can, and you do it because you should. But all you can do is all you can do.

The only “ism” Hollywood believes in is plagiarism.

Civilization is coming to an end, you understand.

Years are only garments, and you either wear them with style all your life, or else you go dowdy to the grave.

Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you!

The writer's way is rough and lonely, and who would choose it while there are vacancies in more gracious professions, such as, say, cleaning out ferryboats?

Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail a friend- Bed awaits me at the end.