Did you ever, in that wonderland wilderness of adolesence [sic] ever, quite unexpectedly, see something, a dusk sky, a wild bird, a landscape, so exquisite terror touched you at the bone? And you are afraid, terribly afraid the smallest movement, a leaf, say, turning in the wind, will shatter all? That is, I think, the way love is, or should be: one lives in beautiful terror.

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

I know the next best thing is often the very best.

I feel that all a writer has is his own experience.

Let's take everything just as it is.

Lively, too. Talky as a jaybird. With something smart to say on every subject: better than the radio.

Most people who become suddenly famous overnight will find that they lose practically eighty percent of their friends. Your old friends just can't stand it for some reason.