Nothing fails like success; nothing is so defeated as yesterday's triumphant Cause.

I am he / Who champions total liberty - / Intolerance being, ma'am, a state / No tolerant man can tolerate.

These are my daughters, I suppose. But where in the world did the children vanish?

The Enemy, who wears her mother's usual face and confidential tone, has access; doubtless stares into her writing case and listens on the phone.

The saints differ from us in their exuberance, the excess of our human talents. Moderation is not their secret. It is in the wildness of their dreams, the desperate vitality of their ambitions, that they stand apart from ordinary people of good will.

There are books that one needs maturity to enjoy just as there are books an adult can come on too late to savor.

Wherever conversation's flowing, / Why must I feel it falls on me / To keep things going?