I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colours richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and is content.

The purpose of a short story is ... that the reader shall come away with the satisfactory feeling that a particular insight into human character has been gained, or that his (or her) knowledge of life has been deepened, or that pity, love or sympathy for a human being is awakened.

He who is afraid to use an "I" in his writing will never make a good writer.

The only test of a soul's salvation is its inward happiness.

It is not so much what you believe in that matters, as the way in which you believe it and proceed to translate that belief into action.

Creative work carries with it a form of intense love.

Probably the difference between man and the monkeys is that the monkeys are merely bored, while man has boredom plus imagination.