Civilization is a fiction which becomes a fact only as long as everyone can believe in it. It is the cynic, rather than the rebel, who pulls down the whole flimsy structure periodically throughout history.

Thunderstorms were rare in California, but when they came they were, like most things in California, larger than life.

Diamonds are the tears of the poor.

Even a small, everyday lie is a clue to the personality and preoccupations of the liar, like a dream or any other confection of the mind, that is half-conscious and half-unconscious, as all creative acts must be.

That's the worst thing about money - the moment you have some you begin to suspect everyone of trying to take it away from you. And usually they are.

The author portrays himself in every line he writes and portrayal is always betrayal.

At twenty your choices are almost unlimited. At fifty you're a prisoner of past decisions. At seventy you have no free will left at all.