He loved her, he loved her, and until he'd loved her she had never minded being alone.

You can love somebody without it being like that. You keep them a stranger, a stranger who's a friend.

One of the most difficult things in writing a novel or anything at all is to choose the point of view from which it's going to be told.

Hulga the whole while hollering like a half-slaughtered hog. (Attention, students of literature! Alliteration - have you noticed? - is my least vice.)

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.

I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together.

I told you: you can make yourself love anybody.