The memories of childhood have a strange shuttling quality, and areas of darkness ring the spaces of light. The memories of childhood are like clear ….

I have more to say than Hemingway, and God knows, I say it better than Faulkner..

A writer soon discovers he has no single identity but lives the lives of all the people he creates and his weathers are independent of the actual day….

There was hope in him, and soon perhaps the outline of his journey would take form..

There are those who know and those who don't know. And for every ten thousand who don't know there's only one who knows. That's the miracle of all ti….

the way i need you is a loneliness i cannot bear..

The writer by nature of his profession is a dreamer and a conscious dreamer. He must imagine, and imagination takes humility, love and great courage.….

... and we are not alone in this slavery. there are millions of others throughout the world, of all colors and races and creeds. this we must remembe….

When a person knows and can't make the others understand, what does he do?.

While Time, The endless idiot, runs screaming round the world..

All men are lonely. But sometimes it seems to me that we Americans are the loneliest of all. Our hunger for foreign places and new ways has been with….

For fear is a primary source of evil. And when the question "Who am I?" recurs and is unanswered, then fear and frustration project a negative attitu….

That was the best of all. To speak the truth and be attended..

Don't you loathe it when doctors use the word 'we' when it applies only and solely to yourself?.

The music left only this bad hurt in her, and a blankness. She could not remember any of the symphony, not even the last few notes. She tried to reme….

There is so much truth in children and so little self-consciousness. It always strikes me that they are so capable of losing and finding themselves a….

I got to wear blinders all the time so I won't think sideways or in the past..

Day and night she had drudged and struggled and thrown her soul into her work, and there was not much of her left over for anything else. Being human….

After the first establishment of identity there comes the imperative need to lose this new-found sense of separateness and to belong to something lar….

Because in some men it is in them to give up everything personal at some time, before it ferments and poisons--throw it to some human being or some h….

Sunday afternoons are the longest afternoons of all..