And since gin to artifice bears the same relation as tears to mascara, her attractions at once dissembled.

A disquieting loneliness came into my life, but it induced no hunger for friends of longer acquaintance: they seemed now like a salt-free, sugarless diet.

If you have a single narrator, a person like an "I" - "'I' did this" and "'I' did that" - it automatically solves the most difficult problem in writing.

I despise people who can't control themselves.

I'll wager at the end a body realizes the Lord has already shown Himself. That things as they are -- her hand circles in a gesture that gathers clouds and kites and grass and Queenie pawing earth over her bone - just what they've always seen, was seeing Him. As for me, I could leave the world with today in my eyes.

Half the people who snuff people, that's what they want: recognition. Get their picture in the paper.

I've got something inside of me, peasantlike and stubborn, and I'm in it till the end of the race.