There is never enough time to say our last word-the last word of our love, of our desire, faith, remorse, submission, revolt.

Fiction is history, human history, or it is nothing.

We are snared into doing things for which we get called names, and things for which we get hanged, and yet the spirit may well survive - survive the condemnations, survive the halter, by Jove! And there are things - they look small enough sometimes too - by which some of us are totally and completely undone.

He struggled with himself, too. I saw it -- I heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet struggling blindly with itself.

The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.

All creative art is magic, is evocation of the unseen in forms persuasive, enlightening, familiar and surprising.

Never test another man by your own weakness.