Sometimes the most intelligent thing is not to do anything, certainly nothing loaded with the imbecility of emotionality.

I'm no Armenian. I'm an American. Well, the truth is I am both and neither. I love Armenia and I love America and I belong to both, but I am only this: an inhabitant of the earth, and so are you, whoever you are. I tried to forget Armenia but I couldn't do it.

Lionel whispered because he was under the impression that it was out of respect for books, not consideration for readers.

What do you mean, what's the matter with him? Nothing's the matter with him, everything's the matter with him, the same as it is with everybody else. He's just fine. He gets overwhelmed now and then, and he doesn't know how to say what he feels or means, so he cries and runs off a little, trying to find out where to go, for God's sake. Where can you go?

The mad also laugh, or is that what Freud and the others discovered perhaps, that only the mad laugh?

We get very little wisdom from success, you know.

All I can do is write my stories for mankind, and rest easy.