Love is like the measles, all the worse when it comes late.

There is something shameful about the death of a play. It does not die with pity, but contempt.

Some day some one will write a book about that frantic search of the creative worker for silence and freedom, not only from interruption but from the fear of interruption.

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

I have never learned to say 'gas' for gasoline. It seems to me as absurd as if I were to say 'but' for butter.

having considerable mind, changing it became almost as ponderous an operation as moving a barn, although not nearly so stable.

Patience and endurance were not virtues in a woman; they were necessities, forced on her. Perhaps some day things would change and women would renounce them. They would rise up and say: 'We are not patient. We will endure no more.' Then what would happen to the world?