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

Interest in the lives of others, the high evaluation of these lives, what are they but the overflow of the interest a man finds in himself, the value he attributes to his own being?.

A man needs a purpose for real health.

If I can write everything out plainly, perhaps I will myself understand better what has happened.

The eighteen years he has lived seem but a moment, a breathing space in the long march of humanity. Already he hears death calling. With all his heart he wants to come close to some other human, touch someone with his hands, be touched by the hand of another.

I think the whole glory of writing lies in the fact that it forces us out of ourselves and into the lives of others.

There is a time in the life of every boy when he for the first time takes the backward view of life. Perhaps that is the moment when he crosses the line into manhood.