True goodness is an inward grace, not an outward necessity.

... to be "literary" appeared to my deluded innocence as an unending romance.

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

The hardest thing for me is the sense of impermanence. All passes; nothing returns.

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.

Spring, which germinated in the earth, moved also with a strange restlessness, in the hearts of... women. As the weeks passed, inextinguishable hope, which mounts with the rising sap, looked from their faces.

I'm not going to lie down and let trouble walk over me.