Of all the objects of hatred, a woman once loved is the most hateful.

Have you noticed ... there is never any third act in a nightmare? They bring you to a climax of terror and then leave you there. They are the work of poor dramatists.

Strange when you come to think of it, that of all countless folk who have lived on this planet, not one is known in history or in legend as having died of laughter.

Every kind of writing is hypocritical.

For people who like that kind of thing, this is the kind of thing they like.

We must stop talking about the American dream and start listening to the dreams of Americans.

Not philosophy, after all, not humanity, just sheer joyous power of song, is the primal thing in poetry.