There is within every human being a deep well of thinking over which a heavy iron lid is kept clamped.
Sherwood AndersonThe 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.
Sherwood AndersonI think the whole glory of writing lies in the fact that it forces us out of ourselves and into the lives of others.
Sherwood AndersonThe writer, an old man with a white moustache, had some difficulty getting into bed.
Sherwood Anderson