Give a critic an inch, he'll write a play.

This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me.

There are monstrous changes taking place in the world, forces shaping a future whose face we do not know. Some of these forces seem evil to us, perhaps not in themselves but because their tendency is to eliminate other things we hold good.

One can find so many pains when the rain is falling.

Well, I never seen one guy take so much trouble for another guy. I just like to know what your interest is.

Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.

Can you honestly love a dishonest thing?