Men had reached into the scrub and along its boundaries, had snatched what they could get and had gone away, uneasy in that vast indifferent peace; for a man was nothing, crawling ant-like among the myrtle bushes under the pines. Now they were gone, it was as though they had never been. The silence of the scrub was primordial. The wood-thrush crying across it might have been the first bird in the world-or the last.

to comfort any mortal against loneliness, one other is enough.

Garlic, like perfume, must be used with discretion and on the proper occasions.

Madness is only a variety of mental nonconformity and we are all individualists here.

A woman has got to love a bad man once or twice in her life, to be thankful for a good one.

people in general are totally unable to detach the personality of a writer from the products of his thinking.

Food imaginatively and lovingly prepared, and eaten in good company, warms the being with something more than the mere intake of calories. I cannot conceive of cooking for friends or family, under reasonable conditions, as being a chore.