And the old horror of being a professional writer, and the usual stench of words that goes with it, is begining to drive me out of my seat. (Buddy)

I was surrounded by phonies...They were coming in the goddam window.

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

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

The catcher in the rye... that's all I really want to be.

If I were God, I certainly wouldn't want people to love me sentimentally. It's too unreliable.

There isn’t a nightclub in the world that you can sit in for a long time unless you can at least buy some liquor and get drunk. Or unless you’re with some girl that really knocks you out.