Its theme-- the operation of divine grace on a group of diverse but closely connected characters-- was perhaps presumptuously large, but I make no apology for it.

It doesn't matter what people call you unless they call you pigeon pie and eat you up.

The most futile and disastrous day seems well spent when it is reviewed through the blue, fragrant smoke of a Havana Cigar.

Not everyone grows to be old, but everyone has been younger than he is now.

Professional reviewers read so many bad books in the course of duty that they get an unhealthy craving for arresting phrases.

For in that city [New York] there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy.

I [had] added another small piece to the pages of the atlas that were real to me.