Forgive everyone for your own sins and be sure to tell them you love them which you do.

Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?

equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha

The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that I loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry California October nights unmatched anywhere in the world.

don't stop to think of the words when you do stop, just stop to think of the picture better-and let your mind off yourself in this work.

You don't realize what a strain it is on the nerves to write or think-of-writing all day long, and to sleep full of nervous dreams, and to wake up not knowing who one is: this all stems from anxiety about finishing the book, about time 'growing short', etc., and the perpetual strain of invention.

The truth of the matter is we don't understand our women; we blame on them and it's all our fault.