A man and woman in search of something are always blown apart, but it's the same wind that blows them.

All I know from my own experience is that the more loss we feel the more grateful we should be for whatever it was we had to lose. It means that we had something worth grieving for. The ones I'm sorry for are the ones that go through life not knowing what grief is.

I suppose we all have our little hiding-hole if the truth was known, but as small as it is, the whole world is in it, and bit by bit grows on us again till the day You find us out.

I cant write about something I dont admire. It goes back to the old concept of the celebration: you celebrate the hero, an idea.

I was a great believer in hot buttered toast at all hours of the day.

Always in the short story there is this sense of outlawed figures wandering about the fringes of society.... As a result there is in the short story at its most characteristic something we do not often find in the novel--an intense awareness of human loneliness.

No man is ever as anti-feminist as a really feminine woman.