You can make a killing as a playwright in America, but you can't make a living.

In the beginning when the world was young there were a great many thoughts but no such thing as truth. Man made the truths himself and each truth was a composite of a great many vague thoughts. All about in the world were truths and they were all beautiful.

People keep on getting married. Evidently hope is eternal in the human breast.

I am a lover and have not found my thing to love. That is a big point if you know enough to realize what I mean. It makes my destruction inevitable, you see. There are few who understand that.

Realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art.

It may be life is only worthwhile at moments. Perhaps that is all we ought to expect.

It is no use. I find it impossible to work with security staring me in the face.