I don't think of the past. The only thing that matters is the everlasting present.

I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o'clock sharp.

No one can write a best seller by trying to. He must write with complete sincerity; the clichés that make you laugh, the hackneyed characters, the well-worn situations, the commonplace story that excites your derision, seem neither hackneyed, well worn nor commonplace to him. ... The conclusion is obvious: you cannot write anything that will convince unless you are yourself convinced. The best seller sells because he writes with his heart's blood.

The ballet. I saw in the fugitive beauty of a dancer's gesture a symbol of life. It was achieved at the cost of unending effort but, with all the forces of gravity against it, a fleeting poise in mid-air, a lovely attitude worthy to be made immortal in a bas-relief, it was lost as soon as it was gained and there remained no more than the memory of an exquisite emotion. So life, lived variously and largely, becomes a work of art only when brought to its beautiful conclusion and is reduced to nothingness in the moment when it arrives at perfection.

No woman is worth more than a fiver unless you're in love with her. Then she's worth all she costs you.

Women are constantly trying to commit suicide for love, but generally they take care not to succeed.

It's no use crying over spilt milk, because all of the forces of the universe were bent on spilling it.