You must remember always to give, of everything you have. You must give foolishly even. You must be extravagant. You must give to all who come into your life. Then nothing and no one shall have power...
It takes a lot of rehearsing for a man to be himself.
I am interested in madness. I believe it is the biggest thing in the human race, and the most constant. How do you take away from a man his madness without also taking away his identity? Are we sure i...
Of course if you like your kids if you love them from the moment they begin you yourself begin all over again in them and with them.
The writer is a spiritual anarchist, as in the depth of his soul every man is. He is discontented with everything and everybody. The writer is everybody's best friend and only true enemy — the good an...
Live, for this is the time of your life.
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,...
I know you will remember this — that nothing good ever ends. If it did, there would be no people in the world — no life at all, anywhere. And the world is full of people and full of wonderful life.
Every man in the world is better than some one else. And not as good as some one else.
You know the look: genius gone to pot, and ready to join the Communist Party
People are people. Don't be afraid of them.
What a lonely and silly thing it is to be an Armenian writer in America.
This is what drives a young writer out of his head, this feeling that nothing is being said.
What can I tell you, except the stupid little I know?
Every man in the world is better than someone else and not as good as someone else.
Dear lady, ... dear gentleman, reader, [it's] not right ... to put down this writer on his writing ... And I'll tell you why, too: it hurts, that's why.... People try to understand why writers commit...
I never knew teachers are human beings like everybody else-- and better too!
There is little pride in writers. They know they are human and shall some day die and be forgotten. Knowing all this a writer is gentle and kindly where another man is severe and unkind.
He was under the impression that he belonged wherever there was something interesting to see.
Sometimes the most intelligent thing is not to do anything, certainly nothing loaded with the imbecility of emotionality.