San Francisco itself is art, above all literary art. Every block is a short story, every hill a novel. Every home a poem, every dweller within immortal. That is the whole truth.

What is a street? It is where the living weep, where the dead go off in silence to their peace.

I cannot see the war as historians see it. Those clever fellows study all the facts and they see the war as a large thing, one of the biggest events in the legend of the man, something general, involving multitudes.

I do not know what makes a writer, but it probably isn't happiness.

There's a pretty woman for ever lucky man in the world: every man in the world is a lucky man if he only knew it, so why waste time?

If you’re alive, you can’t be bored in San Francisco. If you’re not alive, San Francisco will bring you to life.

The writer who is a real writer is a rebel who never stops.