The existence of God, the why of life, was all that really only a question of glands?

That's something that annoys the hell out of me-I mean if somebody says the coffee's all ready and it isn't.

Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.

If you're going to say the Jesus Prayer, at least say it to Jesus, and not to St. Francis and Seymour and Heidi's grandfather all wrapped up in one.

Don't hate me because I can't remember some person immediately. Especially when they look like everybody else, and talk and dress and act like everybody else.

She was a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. She looked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty.

I kept picturing all these little kids in this big field of rye... If they're running and they don't look where they're going, I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.