This life's dim windows of the soul. Distorts the heavens from pole to pole. And leads you to believe a read more

This life's dim windows of the soul. Distorts the heavens from pole to pole. And leads you to believe a lie when you see with, not through, the eye.

It's Tommy this, and Tommy that, and 'chuck 'im out, the brute,' But it's 'Savior of his Country,' When the read more

It's Tommy this, and Tommy that, and 'chuck 'im out, the brute,' But it's 'Savior of his Country,' When the guns begin to shoot!

I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if read more

I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.

All autobiography is self-indulgent.

All autobiography is self-indulgent.

Do not trust the horse, Trojans! Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks, even though they bring gifts.

Do not trust the horse, Trojans! Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks, even though they bring gifts.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let read more

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

Thurber did not write the way a surgeon operates, he wrote the way a child skips rope, the way a read more

Thurber did not write the way a surgeon operates, he wrote the way a child skips rope, the way a mouse waltzes.

Oh, thou hast a damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon read more

Oh, thou hast a damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me Hal, God forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked.

Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to read more

Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to hell; the door of dark Dis stands open day and night. But to retrace your steps and come out to the air above, that is work, that is labor!