The world doesn't come to the clever folks, it comes to the stubborn, obstinate, one-idea-at-a-time people.
Peace is not a passive but an active condition, not a negation but an affirmation.
People that trust themselves a dozen miles from the city, in strange houses, with servants they don't know, needn't be surprised if they wake up some morning and find their throats cut.
Girls inevitably grew into women, but something of the boy persisted in every man.
Men... look back on the children who were once themselves, and attempt to reconstruct them. But they can no longer think like the child...
I had a vision ... of being found on the pavement by some passerby, with a small punctuation mark ending my sentence of life.
Death was a beginning and not an end; it was the morning of the spirit. Tired bodies lay down to sleep and their souls wakened to the morning, rested; the first fruits of them that slept.
it is axiomatic with most writing people that there are no such things as perfect conditions for work.
my crime books are actually novels and are written as such. One might even say that each one is really two novels, one of which is the story I tell the reader, and the other the buried story I know and let slip now and then into a clue to whet the reader's interest.
From class consciousness to class hatred was but a step.
Curious, how one remembered Christmas. Perhaps because other days might appeal to the head, but this one appealed to the heart.
there comes a time when ambition ceases to burn, or romance to stir, and the highest cry of the human heart is for peace.
the calm of a place like Bellwood is the peace of death without the hope of resurrection.
there is no truly honest autobiography.
because we are always staring at the stars, we learn the shortness of our arms.
Conflict is the very essence of life.
It is only in his head that man is heroic; in the pit of his stomach he is always a coward.
[The writer] wants both to do the best possible work and also to reach the largest possible audience. The result is a fairly normal condition of discouragement.
Of one thing the reader can be certain: the more easily anything reads, the harder it has been to write.
The author lives with one foot in an everyday world and the other feeling about anxiously for a foothold in another more precarious one.
[When working on a book] I have an almost complete detachment from the world I live in, a sort of armor against distraction. I talk to people, move about, appear on the surface much as usual. But later on I have only a confused memory of what has happened during that period.
We are often miserable at our desk or typewriters, but not happy away from them.
I have never learned to say 'gas' for gasoline. It seems to me as absurd as if I were to say 'but' for butter.
I suppose it is because woman's courage is mental and man's physical, that in times of great strain women always make the better showing.
Well, that was life. It was an old tree, and the old passed on. Probably they did not mind. There came a time when all sap ran slowly, and the peace of age with all things behind it merged easily into the peace of death. The difficult thing was to be young.
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