I have seldom written a story, long or short, that I did not have to write and rewrite. There are single stories of mine that have taken me ten or twelve years to get written.

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

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

What is to be got at to make the air sweet, the ground good under the feet, can only be got at by failure, trial, again and again and again failure.

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 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.

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