There are many tongues to talk, and but few heads to think.

A writer is a world trapped in a person.

Though one believes in nothing, there are moments in life when one accepts the religion of the temple nearest at hand.

She was a lovely blonde, with fine teeth. She had gold and pearls for her dowry; but her gold was on her head, and her pearls were in her mouth.

To give thanks in solitude is enough. Thanksgiving has wings and goes where it must go. Your prayer knows much more about it than you do.

Slaves would be tyrants were the chance theirs.

What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past.