Besides, all my New York friends were in the negative, nightmare position of putting down society and giving their tired bookish or political or psychoanalytical reasons, but Dean just raced in society, eager for bread and love.

The silence was an intense roar.

I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.

She spoke of evenings in the country making popcorn on the porch. Once this would have gladdened my heart but because her heart was not glad when she said it I knew there was nothing in it but the idea of what one should do.

It'll take you eternities to get rid of me,' she adds sadly, which makes me jealous, I want her to say I'll never get rid of her - I wanta be chased till eternity till I catch her.

They build their own Hells.

Writing at least is a silent meditation even though you’re going a hundred miles an hour.