All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.

I don't know yet what I am capable of doing, but, by God, I have genius -- I know it too well to blush behind it.

Culture is the arts elevated to a set of beliefs.

There’s no sight on earth more appealing than that of a woman making dinner for someone she loves.

Making the world safe for hypocrisy.

The old hunger for voyages fed at his heart....To go alone...into strange cities; to meet strange people and to pass again before they could know him; to wander, like his own legend, across the earth--it seemed to him there could be no better thing than that.

What I had to face, the very bitter lesson that everyone who wants to write has got to learn, was that a thing may in itself be the finest piece of writing one has ever done, and yet have absolutely no place in the manuscript one hopes to publish.