The salvation of the world is in man's suffering.
A writer must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid.
Pointless... like giving caviar to an elephant.
The last sound on the worthless earth will be two human beings trying to launch a homemade spaceship and already quarreling about where they are going next.
I decline to accept the end of man.
Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency to get the book written.
Our tragedy is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it... the basest of all things is to be afraid.
We have to start teaching ourselves not to be afraid.
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.
A mule will labor ten years willingly and patiently for you, for the privilege of kicking you once.
If I had not existed, someone else would have written me, Hemingway, Dostoevski, all of us.
Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
A man's moral conscience is the curse he had to accept from the gods in order to gain from them the right to dream.
Facts and truth really don't have much to do with each other.
Tomorrow night is nothing but one long sleepless wrestle with yesterday's omissions and regrets.
I'm bad and I'm going to hell, and I don't care. I'd rather be in hell than anywhere where you are.
There is something about jumping a horse over a fence, something that makes you feel good. Perhaps it's the risk, the gamble. In any event it's a thing I need.
Given a choice between grief and nothing, I'd choose grief.
The end of wisdom is to dream high enough to lose the dream in the seeking of it.
To live anywhere in the world today and be against equality because of race or color is like living in Alaska and being against snow.
The scattered tea goes with the leaves and every day a sunset dies.
Perhaps they were right in putting love into books... Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
Well, between Scotch and nothin', I suppose I'd take Scotch. It's the nearest thing to good moonshine I can find.
This is a free country. Folks have a right to send me letters, and I have a right not to read them.