Haie! Haie! These were the swift to harry; These the keen-scented; These were the souls of blood. Slow on the leash, pallid the leash-men!

The flavors of the peach and the apricot are not lost from generation to generation. Neither are they transmitted by book learning.

The technique of infamy is to start two lies at once and get people arguing heatedly over which is the truth.

Literature is news that stays news.

Somebody said that I am the last American living the tragedy of Europe.

The secret of popular writing is never to put more on a given page than the common reader can lap off it with no strain whatsoever on his habitually slack attention.

I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I have made Let those I love try to forgive what I have made.