“A good story is like a bitter pill, with the sugar coating inside of it.”

We may achieve climate, but weather is thrust upon us.

If man knew how women pass the time when they are alone, they’d never marry.

Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

There is a saying that no man has tasted the full flavor of life until he has known poverty, love, and war.

Those whom we first love we seldom marry.

There are a few editor men with whom I am privileged to come in contact. It has not been long since it was their habit to come in contact with me. There is a difference.

Whenever he saw a dollar in another man’s hands he took it as a personal grudge, if he couldn’t take it any other way.

She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed–necessary but scarcely noticed.

Most wonderful of all are words, and how they make friends one with another.

Whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines.

Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

No friendship is an accident.

What else can you expect from a town thats shut off from the world by the ocean on one side and New Jersey on the other?

By rights you’re a king. If I was you, I’d call for a new deal.

A straw vote only shows which way the hot air blows.

East is East, and West is San Francisco, according to Californians. Californians are a race of people; they are not merely inhabitants of a State.

Oh, I was brought up in the north of France, and I had a very enjoyable childhood with my family working as entrepreneur.

I like that combination between creativity and the creative process and the organization needed to make a business like this successful worldwide.

Jackson [Rathbone] is the most artsy, creative and, I think, the most talented.

Creating is a lonely thing in a lot of ways.

It hinders the creative work of the mind if the intellect examines too closely the ideas as they pour in.

In the case of a creative mind, it seems to me, the intellect has withdrawn its watchers from the gates, and the ideas rush in pell-mell and only then does it review and inspect the multitudes.

At the very beginning of my creative life I loved humanity. I wanted to do something good for mankind. Soon I understood that it isn’t possible to save mankind.

Artists die twice. First creatively. Then physically. The second one is the easiest.