I am dead to adverbs; they cannot excite me. To misplace an adverb is a thing which I am able to do with frozen indifference; it can never give me a pang. There are subtleties which I cannot master at all - they confuse me, they mean absolutely nothing to me - and this adverb plague is one of them.

Damn the subjunctive. It brings all our writers to shame.

Necessity is the mother of taking chances.

When you catch an adjective, kill it - perhaps the best possible advice for budding writers.

A myriad of men are born; they labor and sweat and struggle; ...they squabble and scold and fight; they scramble for little mean advantages over each other; age creeps upon them; infirmities follow; ...those they love are taken from them, and the joy of life is turned to aching grief. It comes at last--the only unpoisoned gift earth ever had for them--and they vanish from a world where they were of no consequence, ...a world which will lament them a day and forget them forever.

One of my theories is that the hearts of men are about alike, no matter what their skin color.

To be satisfied with what one has; that is wealth. As long as one sorely needs a certain additional amount, that man isn't rich.