He seemed to be made of sunshine and blood-red tissue and clear weather.

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

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

It ain't the roads we take; it's what's inside of us that makes us turn out the way we do.

Each of us, when our day's work is done, must seek our ideal, whether it be love or pinochle or lobster à la Newburg, or the sweet silence of the musty bookshelves.

History is bright and fiction dull with homely men who have charmed women.

Perhaps there is no happiness in life so perfect as the martyr's.