California, where the spring comes in the fall and the fall comes in the summer and the summer comes in the winter and the winter never comes at all.

there are no old people in California. Nobody ever gets a chance to grow old there. The climate won't let you. The scenery won't let you. The life won't let you.

It is a racking thing to have a plague of ideas and no chance to get rid of them on paper. I've nearly gone mad at times.

A green Christmas makes a fat graveyard.

I'd rather be in prison in California than free anywhere else.

Perhaps after all the most breathtaking quality about San Francisco is these unexpected glimpses that you are always getting of beautiful hill-heights and beautiful valley-depths. ... City lights, like nests of diamonds, glitter and glisten in the depths of those valleys.

California, where the spring comes in the fall and the fall comes in the summer and the summer comes in the winter and the winter never comes at all.