What was the use of doing great things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going to do?

Conditions in the [movie] industry somehow propose the paradox: "We brought you here for your individuality but while you're here we insist that you do everything to conceal it.

She wanted to crawl into his pocket and be safe forever.

I found something! Courage--just that; courage as a rule of life and something to cling to always.

This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children's eyes.

What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon? And the day after that, and the next thirty years?

I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never write anything but mediocre poetry.