The natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness.

This is what I think now; that the natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness. I think also that in an adult the desire to be finer in grain than you are, "a constant striving" (as those people say who gain their bread by saying it) only adds to this unhappiness in the end--that end that comes to our youth and hope.

The faces of most American women over thirty are relief maps of petulant and bewildered unhappiness.

Always willing to lend a helping hand to the one above him.

It is in the thirties that we want friends. In the forties we know they won't save us any more than love did.

Genius is the ability to put into effect what is on your mind.