I was an old man when I was 12; and now I am an old man, AND IT'S SPLENDID!

Man is not an end but a beginning. We are at the beginning of the second week. We are children of the eighth day

The stuff of which masterpieces are made drifts about the world waiting to be clothed in words.

An incinerator is a writer's best friend.

Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?

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

Art is not only the desire to tell one's secret; it is the desire to tell it and hide it at the same time.