Here In Texas Maybe We've Got Into

Christmas Isn't A Season. It's A Feeling.

Here In Texas Maybe We've Got Into The Habit Of Confusing Bigness With Greatness.

All The Difference In The World Between The Movies And The Thrill I Get Out Of A Play At The Theater. Ay, Yes! Like Fooling Around With Paper Dolls When You Could Be Playing With A Real Live Baby.

Writers Of Novels Are So Busy Being Solitary That They Haven't Time To Meet One Another. But Then, A Writer Learns Nothing From A Writer, Conversationally. If A Writer Has Anything Witty, Profound Or Quotable To Say He Doesn't Say It. He's No Fool. He Writes It.

Any Piece Of Furniture, I Don't Care How Beautiful It Is, Has Got To Be Lived With, And Kicked About, And Rubbed Down, And Mistreated By Servants, And Repolished, And Knocked Around And Dusted And Sat On Or Slept In Or Eaten Off Of Before It Develops Its Real Character ... A Good Deal Like Human Beings.