The ideal story is that of two people who go into love step for step, with a fluttered consciousness, like a pair of children venturing together into a dark room.

A hanging in a good quarrel is an easy death they say, though I could never hear of any that came back to say so.

To know what you like is the beginning of wisdom and of old age. Youth is wholly experimental. The essence and charm of that unquiet and delightful epoch is ignorance of self as well as ignorance of life.

After all, the commonplaces are the great poetic truths.

When I say writing, O believe me, it is rewriting that I have chiefly in mind.

No human being ever spoke of scenery for above two minutes at a time, which makes me suspect that we hear too much of it in literature.

The man is a success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who leaves the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.