Books—where if people suffered$$$ they suffered in beautiful language$$$ not in monosyllables$$$ as we did in Kansas.

Time can be a greedy thing — sometimes it steals the details for itself.

It's not what you like but what you are like that's important.

Sarcasm and compassion are two of the qualities that make life on Earth tolerable.

Wine can of their wits the wise beguile$$$ make the sage frolic$$$ and the serious smile.

For you$$$ a thousand times over.

It seems to me now that the plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don't need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.

Nothing is more common than the wish to be remarkable.

Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.

Beware how you take away hope from another human being.