You stay out here a little while, an' if you smell any roses, you come let me smell, too.

Once you have lived in New York and made it your home, no place else is good enough

Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

We only have one story. All novels, all poetry are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil.

Farewell has a sweet sound of reluctance. Good-by is short and final, a word with teeth sharp to bite through the string that ties past to the future.

I know now why confusion in government is not only tolerated but encouraged. I have learned. A confused people can make no clear demands.

... you must not expect to find that people understand what they do.