The Writer Must Hew The Phantom Rock.

I´m A Stranger In A Strange Land.

Nothing Is So Musical As The Sound Of Pouring Bourbon For The First Drink On A Sunday Morning. Not Bach Or Schubert Or Any Of Those Masters.

Resentment Is The Most Precious Flower Of Poverty.

I Was Like A Cat Always Climbing The Wrong Tree.

There Are Those Who Know And Those Who Don't Know. And For Every Ten Thousand Who Don't Know There's Only One Who Knows. That's The Miracle Of All Time--the Fact That These Millions Know So Much But Don't Know This.