Of all men the drunkard is the foulest. The thief when he is not stealing is like another. The extortioner does not practice in the home. The murderer when he is at home can wash his hands. But the drunkard stinks and vomits in this own bed and dissolves his organs in alcohol.

Scott Fitzgerald was mortally afraid of lightning.

Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now.

How did we go bankrupt? Two ways. Slowly, and then all of a sudden.

You’re my religion. You’re all I’ve got.

Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?

You may talk. And I may listen. And miracles might happen.