All men kill the thing they hate, too, unless, of course, it kills them first.

Until a man can quit talking loudly to himself in order to shout down the memories of blunderings and gropings, he is in no shape for the painstaking examination of distress.

I was seized by the stern hand of Compulsion, that dark, unreasonable Urge that impels women to clean house in the middle of the night.

With sixty staring me in the face, I have developed inflammation of the sentence structure and definite hardening of the paragraphs.

The trouble with the lost generation is that it didn't get lost enough.

The most dangerous food is wedding cake.

Where most of us end up there is no knowing, but the hellbent get where they are going.