Honesty means nothing until you are tested under circumstances where you are sure you could get away with dishonesty.

I know that an author must be brave enough to chop away clinging tentacles of good taste for the sake of a great work. But this is no great work, you see.

I find her anecdotes more efficacious than sheep-counting, rain on a tin roof, or alanol tablets.... you will find me and Morpheus, off in a corner, necking.

[On Katharine Hepburn's stage performance:] She ran the whole gamut of emotions, from A to B.

Pictures pass me in long review,-- Marching columns of dead events. I was tender, and, often, true; Ever a prey to coincidence. Always knew I the consequence; Always saw what the end would be. We're as Nature has made us -- hence I loved them until they loved me.

But I don't give up; I forget why not.

Her mind lives tidily, apart from cold and noise and pain. And bolts the door against her heart, out wailing in the rain.