A writer lives in awe of words, for they can be cruel or kind, and they can change their meanings right in front of you. They pick up flavors and odors like butter in a refrigerator.

The design of a book is the pattern of a reality controlled and shaped by the mind of a writer.

Again it might have been the American tendency in travel. One goes, not so much to see but to tell afterward.

It is the nature of man to rise to greatness if greatness is expected of him.

We are lonesome animals. We spend all life trying to be less lonesome.

Thou mayest rule over sin.

To finish is sadness to a writer — a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn't really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done.