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.

My imagination will get me a passport to hell one day.

These too are of a burning color--not orange, not gold, but if pure gold were liquid and could raise a cream, that golden cream might be like the color of the poppies.

In writing, habit seems to be a much stronger force than either willpower or inspiration.

How can I teach my boys the value and beauty of language and thus communication when the President himself reads westerns exclusively and cannot put together a simple English sentence? (John Steinbeck, in a private letter written during the Eisenhower administration)

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

When we get these thruways across the whole country, as we will and must, it will be possible to drive from New York to California without seeing a single thing.