Any writer overwhelmingly honest about pleasing himself is almost sure to please others.
The mind is an enchanting thing.
A man is a writer if all his words are strung in definite sentence sounds.
There never was a war that was not inward.
At all events there is in Brooklyn something that makes me feel at home.
Only imagination that towers can reproduce evanescence and render rigidity flexible.
You are not male nor female, but a plan deep-set within the heart of man.
We are suffering from too much sarcasm.
What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it.
The deft white-stockinged dance in thick-soled shoes! Denmark’s sanctuaried Jews!
Assign Yogi Berra to Cape Canaveral; he could handle any missile.
Revision is its own reward.