Exposure makes you famous, not just good work. Famous is being plastered everywhere.
Quality, not quantity, is my measure.
Earth is here so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest.
After all there is something about a wedding-gown prettier than in any other gown in the world.
Marriage is like wine. It is not be properly judged until the second glass.
What a fine-looking thing is war! Yet, dress it as we may, dress and feather it, daub it with gold, huzza it, and sing swaggering songs about it,--what is it, nine times out of ten, but murder in uniform!
A blessed companion is a book--a book that, fitly chosen, is a lifelong friend. . . a book that, at a touch, pours its heart into your own.
Babbitt as a book was planless; its end arrived apparently because its author had come to the end of the writing-pad, or rather, one might suspect from its length, to the end of all writing-pads then on the market.
Who in their infinite wisdom decreed that Little League uniforms be white? Certainly not a mother.
Deep, dark unearthly black. I hadn't told anyone yet, but the color kept streaking across my mind at the oddest moments. When it did, my skin shivered pleasantly, and it was as if I could feel the color tracing a finger tenderly along my jaw, tipping my chin up to face it directly. I knew it was absurd to think a color would come to life, but once or twice, I was sure I'd caught a flash of something more substantial behind the color. A pair of eyes. The way they studied me cut to the heart.
My movies work because not many people in Hollywood are like me.