Life is essentially a cheat and its conditions are those of defeat; the redeeming things are not happiness and pleasure but the deeper satisfactions that come out of struggle.

The invitation to Miss Myra St. Claire's bobbing party spent the morning in his coat pocket, where it had an intense physical affair with a dusty piece of peanut brittle.

...I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes.

If all your clothes are worn to the same state, it means you go out too much.

One girl can be pretty - but a dozen are only a chorus.

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you -- like music to the musician or Marxism to the Communist -- or else it is nothing, an empty, formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!