The house was as empty as a beer closet in premises where painters have been at work.

Once I talked to the inmates of an insane asylum in Hartford. I have talked to idiots a thousand times, but only once to the insane.

You ought never to sass old people- unless they sass you first.

The old Irish when immersing a babe at baptism left out the right arm so that it would remain pagan for good fighting

I cherish the dreams of yesterday and dare not dwell on the err's of my past whose fate has been long decided, and effect I can not change. For the dreams of yesterday are the challenges of today, and the hope for tomorrow.

Wherein lies a poet's claim to originality? That he invents his incidents? No. That he was present when his episodes had their birth? No. That he was first to repeat them? No. None of these things has any value. He confers on them their only originality that has any value, and that is his way of telling them.

Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.