He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

How lazily the sun goes down in Granada, it hides beneath the water, it conceals in the Alhambra!

When I saw my wife again standing by the tracks as the train came in by the piled logs at the station, I wished I had died before I had ever loved anyone but her.

The game of golf would lose a great deal if croquet mallets and billiard cues were allowed on the putting green.

Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel?

You see I'm trying in all my stories to get the feeling of the actual life across, not just to depict life, or criticize it, but to actually make it alive.

Though there is one part of writing that is solid and you do it no harm by talking about it, the other is fragile, and if you talk about it, the structure cracks and you have nothing.