Friends you have, people you love, die and are born again.

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

I go about looking at horses and cattle. They eat grass, make love, work when they have to, bear their young. I am sick with envy of them.

The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way. It rained and little puddles of water shone under the street lamps on Main Street. In the woods in the darkness beyond the Fair Ground water dripped from the black trees.

I am a lover and have not found my thing to love.

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

The whole object of education is...to develop the mind. The mind should be a thing that works.