I try to sit down at the typewriter four times a day, even if it's only five minutes, and write three sentences.

I've always been impulsive. My thinking is usually pretty good, but I always seem to do it after I do my talking — by which time I've generally destroyed all basis for further conversation.

Of course it does not apply to me. I am the soul of honor, kindness, mercy and goodness. Trust me in all things.

Tonight I will suck the marrow from your bones!” it said. “I will dry them and work them most cunningly into instruments of music! Whenever I play upon them, your spirit will writhe in bodiless agony!” “You burn prettily,” I said.

Life is full of doors that don't open when you knock, equally spaced amid those that open when you don't want them to.

If the liberal arts do nothing else they provide engaging metaphors for the thinking they displace.

Sleep is perhaps the only among life's great pleasures which need not be of short duration.