I had a world, and it slipped away from me. The War blew up more than the bodies of men....It blew ideas away.

On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles of Doctor Reefy's hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

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

When a man publishes a book, there are so many stupid things said that he declares he'll never do it again. The praise is almost always worse than the criticism.

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

Work accomplished means little. It is in the past. What we all want is the glorious and living present.

I think you know that when an American stays away from New York too long something happens to him. Perhaps he becomes a little provincial, a little dead and afraid.