[Camila] was quite incapable of establishing any harmony between the claims of her art, of her appetites, or her dreams, and of her crowded daily routine. Each of these was a world in itself.

How do you know what the world is like? Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know if you rip the fronts off houses you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it?

The planting of trees is the least self-centered of all that we can do. It is a purer act of faith than the procreation of children.

you have to love life to have life, and you need to have life to love life

The comic spirit is given to us in order that we may analyze, weigh, and clarify things in us which nettle us, or which we are outgrowing, or trying to reshape

I would love to be the poet laureate of Coney Island.

A play visibly represents pure existing.