A home is not a museum. It doesn't have to be furnished with Picasso paintings, or Sheraton suites, or Oriental rugs, or Chinese pottery. But it does have to be furnished with things that mean something to you.

They threw me off the haytruck about noon.

I write of the wish that comes true--for some reason, a terrifying thought.

I make no conscious effort to be tough, or hard-boiled, or grim, or any of the things I am usually called.

Stealing a man's wife, that's nothing, but stealing his car, that's larceny.

Love, when you get fear in it, it's not love any more. It's hate.

That's all it takes, one drop of fear to curdle love into hate.