He said, "I am a man," and that meant certain things to Juana. It meant that he was half insane and half god.

This you may say of man - when theories change and crash, when schools, philosophies, when narrow dark alleys of thought, national, religious, economic, grow and disintegrate, man reaches, stumbles forward, painfully, mistakenly sometimes. Having stepped forward, he may slip back, but only half a step, never the full step back.

The ancient commission of the writer has not changed. He is charged with exposing our many grievous faults and failures, with dredging up to the light our dark and dangerous dreams for the purpose of improvement.

It requires self-esteem to receive-not self-love but just a pleasant acquaintance and liking for oneself.

Good God, what a mess of draggle-tail impulses a man is--and a woman too, I guess.

The candle aimed its spark of light at heaven, like an artist who consumes himself to become divine.

The story [Henny-Penny] has the best opening in all literature-"The sky is falling," cried Henny-Penny, "and a piece of it fell on my tail.