To dispose a soul to action we must upset its equilibrium.

My writing is done in railroad yards while waiting for a freight, in the fields while waiting for a truck, and at noon after lunch. Towns are too distracting.

Nothing so offends the doctrinaire intellectual as our ability to achieve the momentous in a matter-of-fact way, unblessed by words.

Youth itself is a talent, a perishable talent.

The Greeks invented logic but were not fooled by it.

In a modern society people can live without hope only when kept dazed and out of breath by incessant hustling.

The pleasure we derive from doing favors is partly in the feeling it gives us that we are not altogether worthless. It is a pleasant surprise to ourselves.