Occupation: Writer Birth: February 5, 1915 Death: March 26, 1994
I've reached the age where anyone who lets me talk seems like an old By listening to my memories, you have become part of them..
The sun was shining like a congratulation..
You have what is known as a lot of character, meaning you can be wrong at the top of your lungs..
Common sense is a vastly overrated virtue. I myself prefer the spark of genius..
Shrews are made, not born..
The day will probably come when you can tell everything about a person from his dreams except his age and weight..
the smell of lilacs crept poignantly into the room like a remembered spring..