Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations.

And the rest is rust and stardust.

Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.

Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that’s when you get shooting stars.

Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

The writer's job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them.

There are aphorisms that, like airplanes, stay up only while they are in motion.

I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.

Loneliness as a situation can be corrected, but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness.

The mind is not the one that harasses you, it is the attachment-abhorrence that harasses you. It is because of the attachment-abhorrence that one has memory.

Talent is only cream in your coffee. There is no reason to rest on your talent. If you don't present it, then it gets nowhere.

Sometimes a famous subject may even outlive his own obituary writer.

Singleness and marriage are both evidences of God’s grace that are to be experienced and sustained purely by the strength which God supplies.

MaCleod, since you've flown the SeaBee a lot you'll understand when I say it was the only airplane I ever owned that you could put in a dive, loose a cylinder and stall out!

This is your life - you must die by yourself, so for heaven's sake, live for yourself and no one else. . . .

I believe that there's no improvement if you have an inferiority complex and victim mentality.

History does not so much repeat as echo, I suppose.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

We are tricked by a phenomenon of time: hours and days pass slowly, but years pass quickly.