Lives are only one with living. How dare we, in our egos, claim catastrophe in the rise and fall of the individual entity? There is only Life, and we are beads strung on its strong and endless thread.

Readers themselves, I think, contribute to a book. They add their own imaginations, and it is as though the writer only gave them something to work on, and they did the rest.

no case of libel by a negro against a white would even reach a southern court.

He who tries to forget a woman, never loved her

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.

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

I had done battle with a great fear and the victory was mine.