There is in every human being, I think, a native country of the mind, where, protected by inaccessible barriers, the sensitive dream life may exist safely.

What depresses me is the inevitable way the second rate forges ahead and the deserving is left behind.

In the past few years, I have made a thrilling discovery ... that until one is over sixty, one can never really learn the secret of living. One can then begin to live, not simply with the intense part of oneself, but with one's entire being.

There wouldn't be half as much fun in the world if it weren't for children and men, and there ain't a mite of difference between them under the skins.

Life may take away happiness. But it can't take away having had it.

... the life of the mind is reality, and love without romantic illumination is a spiritless matter.

The pathos of life is worse than the tragedy.