I hate those men who would send into war youth to fight and die for them; the pride and cowardice of those old men, making their wars that boys must die.

Well, that was life. It was an old tree, and the old passed on. Probably they did not mind. There came a time when all sap ran slowly, and the peace of age with all things behind it merged easily into the peace of death. The difficult thing was to be young.

[On fishing:] Greatest rest in the world for the brain.

From class consciousness to class hatred was but a step.

The mystery story is two stories in one: the story of what happened and the story of what appeared to happen.

I believe that the matter is automatically self-regulating; that those women who prefer the home and have an ability for it will eventually return to it; that others, like myself, will compromise; and that still others, temperamentally unfitted for it, will remain in the world to add to its productivity.

[To her frequently needed plumber:] How would you like to be adopted? I'm sure it would be cheaper.