It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment.

There was one of his lonelinesses coming, one of those times when he walked the streets or sat, aimless and depressed, biting a pencil at his desk. It was a self-absorption with no comfort, a demand for expression with no outlet, a sense of time rushing by, ceaselessly and wastefully - assuaged only by that conviction that there was nothing to waste, because all efforts and attainments were equally valueless.

Scratch a Yale man with both hands and you'll be lucky to find a coast-guard. Usually you find nothing at all.

I learned a little of beauty - enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth.

He's a bootlegger....One time he killed a man who found out that he was nephew to Von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil.

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

Never confuse activity with action.