She had certain thoughts which were like companions, ideas which were like older and wiser friends.

Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they are in love with somebody.

Oh, that's the beauty of the rose, that it blossoms and dies.

I have not much faith in women in fiction.... Women are so horribly subjective and they have such scorn for the healthy commonplace. When a woman writes a story of adventure, a stout sea tale, a manly battle yarn, anything without wine, women, and love, then I will begin to hope for something great from them, not before.

Nothing mattered ... but writing books, and living the kind of life that made it possible to write them.

The only thing very noticeable about Nebraska was that it was still, all day long, Nebraska.

Too much information is rather deadening.