It occurred to him that the increasing patience of age was as great a myth as the unalloyed joy of youth. The longer he lived, the less tolerance he had for the patently evil.

Ma Baxter rocked complacently. They were all pleased whenever she made a joke. Her good nature made the same difference in the house as the hearth-fire had made in the chill of the evening.

Some of the books that provided the richest fare were hidden under unrevealing names, like a rare soul behind a drab face.

Life is a difficult matter, and the more a simple man may learn of what greater men have thought, and taught, have spoken and have written, the better can he cope with any sort of life.

She lives a sophisticate’s life among worldly people. At the slightest excuse she steps out of civilization, naked and relieved, as I should step out of a soiled chemise.

He lay down beside the fawn. He put one arm across its neck. It did not seem to him that he could ever be lonely again.

It had been so brief a sojourn, not even a full century. He had been a guest in a mansion and he was not ungrateful. He was at once exhausted and refreshed. His stay was ended. Now he must gather up the shabby impedimenta of his mind and body and be on his way again.

You kin tame arything, son, excusin’ the human tongue.

Information can be passed from one to another, like a silver dollar. There’s absolutely no wisdom except what you learn for yourself.

Personal publicity is apt to be dangerous to any writer’s integrity; for the moment he begins to fancy himself as quite a person, a taint creeps into his work.