Why is it, do you suppose, that an Englishman is unhappy until he has explained America?

The terror of the atom age is not the violence of the new power but the speed of man's adjustment to it, the speed of his acceptance.

I am always humbled by the infite ingenuity of the Lord, who can make a red barn cast a blue shadow.

It is by all odds the loftiest of cities. It even managed to reach the highest point in the sky at the lowest moment of the depression.

Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer-he bides his time, waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. Delay is instinctive with him. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along.

Humor is like a frog. You can dissect it to see how it works, but by then, it's dead.

Life's meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.