There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

Of habit, the power that keeps the earth from flying to pieces; though there is some silly theory of gravitation.

O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

All great men have declared that they owe their sucess to the aid and encouragement of some brilliant woman.

Greenwich Village... the village of low rents and high arts.

Yes, I get dry spells. Sometimes I can't turn out a thing for three months. When one of those spells comes on I quit trying to work and go out and see something of life. You can't write a story that's got any life in it by sitting at a writing table and thinking. You've got to get out into the streets, into the crowds, talk with people, and feel the rush and throb of real life-that's the stimulant for a story writer.

Men to whom life had appeared as a reversible coat - seamy on both sides.