If people did not want their stories told, it would be better for them to keep away from me.

Realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art.

Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything. Be brave enough to dare to be loved. Be something more than man or woman. Be Tandy.

...she thought that something unexpressed in herself came forth and became a part of an unexpressed something in them.

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

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

Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night,' he had said. 'You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life. If you try to be definite and sure about it and to live beneath the trees, where soft night winds blow, the long hot day of disappointment comes swiftly and the gritty dust from passing wagons gathers upon lips inflamed and made tender by kisses.