Most of the faint intimations of immortality of which we are occasionally aware would seem to arise out of Art or the materials of Art.

A pinch of probability is worth a pound of perhaps.

It is better to know some of the questions than all of the answers.

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

You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backward.

A husband should not insult his wife publicly, at parties. He should insult her in the privacy of the home.

The nation that complacently and fearfully allows its artists and writers to become suspected rather than respected is no longer regarded as a nation possessed with humor or depth.