...how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.

...if there was anything at all in the Book, anything of hope and peace for His blind and bewildered spawn which He had chosen above all others to offer immortality, THOU SHALT NOT KILL must be it...

Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.

Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency to get the book written.

When I was little there was a picture in one of our books, a dark place into which a single weak ray of light came slanting upon two faces lifted out of the shadow.

Pouring out liquor is like burning books.

What a writer's obituary should read - he wrote the books, then he died.