I tell you there is such a thing as creative hate.

I have sometimes thought that his bursts of imaginative talk were fatal to his poetic gift. He squandered too much in the heat of personal communication.

An artist's saddest secrets are those that have to do with his artistry.

[Dawn] is always such a forgiving time. When that first cold, bright streak comes over the water, it's as if all our sins were pardoned; as if the sky leaned over the earth and kissed it and gave it absolution.

Wherever humanity has made that hardest of all starts and lifted itself out of mere brutality is a sacred spot.

The sincerity of feeling that is possible between a writer and a reader is one of the finest things I know.

Sometimes I wonder why God ever trusts talent in the hands of women, they usually make such an infernal mess of it. I think He must do it as a sort of ghastly joke.