I don't believe the writer should know too much where he's going. If he does, he runs into old man blueprint—old man propaganda.

I have the reputation for having read all of Henry James. Which would argue a misspent youth and middle age.

The laughter of man is more terrible than his tears, and takes more forms -hollow, heartless, mirthless, maniacal.

The difference between our decadence and the Russians is that while theirs is brutal, ours is apathetic.

The pounding of the cylinders increased: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa.

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

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.