Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping.

Some men are friends with the whole world in their hearts, and there are others that hate themselves and spread their hatred around like butter on hot bread.

When you know a friend is there you do not go to see him. Then he's gone and you blast your conscience to shreds that you did not see him.

If he needs a million acres to make him feel rich, seems to me he needs it 'cause he feels awful poor inside hisself, and if he's poor in hisself, there ain't no million acres gonna make him feel rich, an' maybe he's disappointed that nothin' he can do 'll make him feel rich.

Maybe the hardest thing in writing is simply to tell the truth about things as we see them.

Syntax, my lad. It has been restored to the highest place in the republic.

And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry years. It was always that way.