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

I think that those of us who are what are called intellectuals make a terrible mistake in overvaluing the yen we have for the arts, books, etc. There is a sweet, fine quality in life that has nothing to do with this, and more and more I find myself valuing myself with those people.

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

I feel that I am writing out of a full life. I am a rich man, rich in men known, in adventures had. I am rich with living.

Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

Wait and wait. Most people's lives are spent waiting.

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