But youth isn't happy. Youth is sadder than age.

Youth is the season of tragedy and despair. Youth is the time when one's whole life is entangled in a web of identity, in a perpetual maze of seeking and of finding, of passion and of disillusion, of vague longings and of nameless griefs, of pity that is a blade in the heart, and of 'all the little emptiness of love.

There is only one force stronger than selfishness, and that is stupidity.

To a thrifty theologian, bent on redemption with economy, there are few points of ethics too fine-spun for splitting.

What was time itself but the bloom, the sheath enfolding experience? Within time, and with time alone, there was life - the gleam, the quiver, the heartbeat, the immeasurable joy and anguish of being.

I would write of the universal, not the provincial, in human nature.... I would write of characters, not of characteristics.

The suitable is the last thing we ever want.