A Good Novel Cannot Be Too Long

Yes, I Learned Long Ago That The Only Satisfaction Of Authorship Lies In Finding The Very Few Who Understand What We Mean. As For Outside Rewards, There Is Not One That I Have Ever Discovered.

A Self-made Martyr Is A Poor Thing.

I Never Saw The Man Yet That Came Out Of Politics As Clean As He Went Into 'em.

Conscience Represents A Fetich To Which Good People Sacrifice Their Own Happiness, Bad People Their Neighbors'.

The Things I Feared Were Not In The Sky, But In The Nature And In The Touch Of Humanity. The Cruelty Of Children . . . The Blindness Of The Unpitiful - These Were My Terrors. But Not The Crash Of Thunder Overhead, Not The Bolts Of Fire From The Clouds.