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

If [the writer] achieves anything noble, anything enduring, it must be by giving himself absolutely to his material. And this gift of sympathy is his great gift; is the fine thing in him that alone can make his work fine.

Sometimes," I ventured, "it doesn't occur to boys that their mother was ever young and pretty. . . I couldn't stand it if you boys were inconsiderate, or thought of her as if she were just somebody who looked after you. You see I was very much in love with your mother once, and I know there's nobody like her.

Some things are best learned in calm, others in storm.

Desire is creation, is the magical element in that process. If there were an instrument by which to measure desire, one could foretell achievement.

This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces.

There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.