Leave it to me: I'm always top banana in the shock department.

All writing, all art, is an act of faith. If one tries to contribute to human understanding, how can that be called decadent? It's like saying a declaration of love is an act of decadence. Any work of art, provide it springs from a sincere motivation to further understanding between people, is an act of faith and therefore is an act of love.

Most of life is so dull it is not worth discussing, and it is dull at all ages. When we change our brand of cigarette, move to a new neighborhood, subscribe to a different newspaper, fall in and out of love, we are protesting in ways both frivolous and deep against the not to be diluted dullness of day-to-day living.

She had only one flaw. She was perfect, otherwise whe was perfect.

The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow improper; not morally, aesthetically.

The only obligation any artist can have is to himself. His work means nothing, otherwise. It has no meaning.

Great fury, like great whisky, requires long fermentation.