A writer should give direct certainty; explanations are so much water poured into the wine.

Once conform, once do what other people do because they do it, and a lethargy steals over all the finer nerves and faculties of the soul. She becomes all outer show and inward emptiness; dull, callous, and indifferent.

At 46 one must be a miser; only have time for essentials.

How lovely goodness is in those who, stepping lightly, go smiling through the world.

Let a man get up and say, Behold, this is the truth, and instantly I perceive a sandy cat filching a piece of fish in the background. Look, you have forgotten the cat, I say.

every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind is written large in his works, yet we require critics to explain the one and biographers to expound the other. That time hangs heavy on people's hands is the only explanation of the monstrous growth.

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you