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.

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

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

The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor.

Her thoughts ran away to her girlhood with its passionate longing for adventure and she remembered the arms of men that had held her when adventure was a possible thing for her. Particularly she remembered one who had for a time been her lover and who in the moment of his passion had cried out to her more than a hundred times, saying the same words madly over and over: "You dear! You dear! You lovely dear!" The words, she thought, expressed something she would have liked to have achieved in life.

I think the whole glory of writing lies in the fact that it forces us out of ourselves and into the lives of others.

There is this thing called life. We live it, not as we intend or wish, but as we are driven on by forces outside and inside ourselves.