You get born and you try this and you don't know why, only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings, only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don't know why either except that the strings are all in one another's way.

Caddy smelled like trees.

No man can write who is not first a humanitarian

The writer doesn't need economic freedom. All he needs is a pencil and some paper.

I am trying to say it all in one sentence, between one cap and one period.

When grown people speak of the innocence of children, they dont really know what they mean. Pressed, they will go a step further and say, Well, ignorance then. The child is neither. There is no crime which a boy of eleven had not envisaged long ago. His only innocence is, he may not be old enough to desire the fruits of it...his ignorance is, he does not know how to commit it...

Tell about the South. What's it like there. What do they do there. Why do they live there. Why do they live at all.