I, the dreamer clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last thin unbearable ecstatic instant of agony in order to sharpen the savor of the pain's surcease, waking into the reality, the more than reality, not to the unchanged and unaltered old time but into a time altered to fit the dream which, conjunctive with the dreamer, becomes immolated and apotheosized

No man can write who is not first a humanitarian

Caddy smelled like trees.

A man's moral conscience is the curse he had to accept from the gods in order to gain from them the right to dream.

In every writer there is a certain amount of the scavenger.

A gentleman can live through anything.

You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.