Have a drink Tom and then you won't feel so foolish to yourself.

People talk of the courage of convictions, but in actual life a man's duty to his family may make a rigid course seem a selfish indulgence of his own righteousness.

He was so terrible that he was no longer terrible, only dehumanized.

The reason one writes isn't the fact he wants to say something. He writes because he has something to say.

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

Better let it all alone in the depths of her heart and the depths of the sea.

But he hated to be sober. It made him conscious of the people around him, of that air of struggle, of greedy ambition, of hope more sordid than despair, of incessant passage up or down.