Often I think writing is a sheer paring away of oneself leaving always something thinner, barer, more meagre.

And after reading Thoreau I felt how much I have lost by leaving nature out of my life.

Isn't Hollywood a dump-in the human sense of the word. A hideous town, pointed up by the insulting gardens of its rich, full of the human spirit at a new low of debasement.

She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven.

You'll find another.' God! Banish the thought. Why don't you tell me that 'if the girl had been worth having she'd have waited for you'? No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody.

That however the brains and abilities of men may differ, their stomachs are essentially the same.

Life is progressive, no matter what our intentions.