You must try to forget all you have learned,” said the old man. “You must begin to dream. From this time on you must shut your ears to the roaring of the voices.

It was a cold day but the sun was out and the trees were like great bonfires against gray distant fields and hills.

The writing of words can lead to all sorts of absurdities.

You won’t arrive. It is an endless search.

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.

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.

Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.