“In the Big City a man will disappear with the suddenness and completeness of the flame of a candle that is blown out.”

If a person has lived through war, poverty and love, he has lived a full life.

The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet unknown fate.

Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow’s grave. Young men are grave-robbers by nature.

Bride knoweth bride at the glance of an eye. And between them swiftly passes comfort and meaning in a language that man and widows wot not of.

There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old age; youth’s burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares; old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.

I’ve got some of my best yarns from park benches, lamp posts and newspaper stands.

This fair but pitiless city of Manhattan was without a soul its inhabitants were manikins moved by wires and springs.

He studied cities as women study their reflections.

There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.

You can’t appreciate home till you’ve left it, money till it’s spent, your wife till she’s joined a woman’s club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.

Each of us, when our day’s work is done, must seek our ideal, whether it be love or pinochle or lobster à la Newburg, or the sweet silence of the musty bookshelves.

History is bright and fiction dull with homely men who have charmed women.

Men to whom life had appeared as a reversible coat – seamy on both sides.

When a man begins to be hilarious in a sorrowful way you can bet a million that he is dyeing his hair.

He seemed to be made of sunshine and blood-red tissue and clear weather.

By nature and doctrines I am addicted to the habit of discovering choice places wherein to feed.

I’ve played different nationalities, and everything from vulnerable to strong to crooked to demented.

Men have only two emotions: hungry and horny.

The secret apparently is half a cup of dark rum.

When I spoke, I was listened to; and I was at a loss to know how I had so easily acquired the art of commanding attention, and giving the tone to the conversation.

We are indeed much more than what we eat

To my surprise I found her cheerful and free of pain, perhaps because of the small doses of morphine she was being given.

Sets you free from all bondage and all seeking.

I’m newly widowed, so I’ve gone from having a life partner, and having another brain to make decisions with