Everything you have is to give. Thou art a phenomenon of philosophy and an unfortunate man.

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

You make your own luck, Gig. You know what makes a good loser? Practice.

The further you go in writing the more alone you are. Most of your best and oldest friends die. Others move away. You do not see them except rarely, but you write and have much the same contact with them as though you were together at the café in the old days. You exchange comic, sometimes cheerfully obscene and irresponsible letters, and it is almost as good as talking. But you are more alone because that is how you must work and the time to work is shorter all the time and if you waste it you feel you have committed a sin for which there is no forgiveness.

The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.

There are some things which cannot be learned quickly, and time, which is all we have, must be paid heavily for their acquiring. They are the very simplest things and because it takes a man's life to know them the little that each man gets from life is very costly and the only heritage he has to leave.

All you need to do is write truly and not care about what the fate of it is.