Isn't it pretty to think so.

Survival, with honor, that outmoded and all-important word, is as difficult as ever and as all-important to a writer. Those who do not last are always more beloved since no one has to see them in their long, dull, unrelenting, no-quarter-given-and-no-quarter-received, fights that they make to do something as they believe it should be done before they die. Those who die or quit early and easy and with every good reason are preferred because they are understandable and human. Failure and well-disguised cowardice are more human and more beloved.

That seemed to handle it. That was it. Send a girl off with one man. Introduce her to another to go off with him. Now go and bring her back. And sign the wire with love. That was it all right. I went in to lunch.

Cowards die a thousand deaths, but the brave only die once.

I always try to write on the principle of the iceberg. There is seven-eighths of it underwater for every part that shows.

As a writer, you should not judge, you should understand.

I would not have thought of eating a meal without drinking a beer.