Men often marry their mothers.

Being an old maid is like death by drowning, a really delightful sensation after you cease to struggle.

The very rich and the very social are, often, the very stuffy.

A closed mind is a dying mind.

In New York the sky is bluer, and the grass is greener, and the girls are prettier, and the steaks are thicker, and the buildings are higher, and the streets are wider, and the air is finer, than the sky, or the grass, or the girls, or the steaks, or the air of any place else in the world.

Wasn't marriage, like life, unstimulating and unprofitable and somewhat empty when too well ordered and protected and guarded. Wasn't it finer, more splendid, more nourishing, when it was, like life itself, a mixture of the sordid and the magnificent; of mud and stars; of earth and flowers; of love and hate and laughter and tears and ugliness and beauty and hurt.

Writing, to be memorable, must be done in a state of impassioned serenity.