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

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.

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

The lives of people are like young trees in a forest. They are being choked by climbing vines. The vines are old thoughts and beliefs planted by dead men.

The machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far from the old sweet things.

It may be life is only worthwhile at moments. Perhaps that is all we ought to expect.

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.