Shoot, boy, the country's just fulla folks what knows everything, and don't understand nothing, just fullofem.

Those final weeks, spanning end of summer and the beginning of another autumn, are blurred in memory, perhaps because our understanding of each other had reached that sweet depth where two people communicate more often in silence than in words: an affectionate quietness replaces the tensions, the unrelaxed chatter and chasing about that produce a friendship’s more showy, more, in the surface sense, dramatic moments.

I am a completely horizontal author. I can't think unless I'm lying down, either in bed or stretched on a couch.

If a man doesn't like baseball, then he must like horses, and if he doesn't like either of them, well, I'm in trouble anyway: he don't like girls.

I don't mean I'd mind being rich and famous. That's very much on my schedule, and someday I'll try to get around to it; but if it happens, I'd like to have my ego tagging along. I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany's.

[L]ove, having no geography, knows no boundaries.

I haven't anything against whores, except this: some of them may have an honest tongue but they all have dishonest hearts.