Commas in The New Yorker fall with the precision of knives in a circus act, outlining the victim.

Writing is both mask and unveiling.

Old age is a special problem for me because I've never been able to shed the mental image I have of myself - a lad of about 19.

A good many of the special words of business seem designed more to express the user's dreams than to express a precise meaning.

Every American, to the last man, lays claim to a "sense" of humor and guards it as his most significant spiritual trait, yet rejects humor as a contaminating element wherever found. America is a nation of comics and comedians; nevertheless, humor has no stature and is accepted only after the death of the perpetrator.

I’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is! Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty—everything I don’t like. How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?

As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left us in a bad time.