Imagination is the voice of the daring.

To live without killing is a thought which could electrify the world, if men were only capable of staying awake long enough to let the idea soak in.

I see America spreading disaster. I see America as a black curse upon the world. I see a long night settling in and that mushroom which has poisoned the world withering at the roots.

Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy; I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of them is not my concern.

If any man dared to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, I think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever again assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.

We live at the edge of the miraculous.

When you know what men are capable of you marvel neither at their sublimity nor their baseness. There are no limits in either direction apparently.