You can't appreciate home till you've left it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a woman's club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.

Love and business and family and religion and art and patriotism are nothing but shadows of words when a man's starving!

He studied cities as women study their reflections.

In the Big City a man will disappear with the suddenness and completeness of the flame of a candle that is blown out.

Humans were denied the speech of animals. The only common ground of communication upon which dogs and men can get together is in fiction.

There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.

But how is it now? All we get is orders; and the laws go out of the state. Them legislators set up there at Austin and don't do nothing but makes laws against kerosene oil and schoolbooks being brought into the state. I reckon they was afraid some man would go home some evening after work and light up and get an education and go to work and make laws to repeal aforesaid laws.