Cynicism is a sure sign of youth.

Doesn't all experience crumble in the end to mere literary material?

Yes, I learned long ago that the only satisfaction of authorship lies in finding the very few who understand what we mean. As for outside rewards, there is not one that I have ever discovered.

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.

The transcendental point of view, the habit of thought bred by communion with earth and sky, had refined the grain while it had roughened the husk.

It is only in the heart that anything really happens.

The only natural human beings seem to be those who are making trouble.