I have lost all sense of home, having moved about so much. It means to me now--only that place where the books are kept.

All we got is the family unbroke.

My wants are simple. I have no desire to latch onto a monster symbol of fate and power and prove my manhood in titanic piscine war. But sometimes I do like a couple of cooperative fish of frying size.

The utter insanity of living in a place like this doesn't occur to the 9,000,000 people who inhabit New York. Except for visits I think I shall not be here any more as a resident.

Unless a reviewer has the courage to give you unqualified praise, I say ignore the bastard.

There is no lostness like that which comes to a man when a perfect and certain pattern has dissolved about him.

Then the hard, dry Spaniards came exploring through, greedy and realistic, and their greed was for gold or God. They collected souls as they collected jewels. They gathered mountains and valleys, rivers and whole horizons, the way a man might now gain tittle to building lots.