So long, Lee. Give our regards to the Kaiser. And tell him there's a few boys on 58th Street who'll throw a party for him if he'll drop around.

He had a picture in his mind of Studs Lonigan courageously telling life and the world to stick itself up it's old tomato.

There's one good kind of writer - a dead one.

He had come to America, haven of peace and liberty, and it, too, was joining the slaughter, fighting for the big capitalists. There was no peace for men, only murder, cruelty, brutality.

Neither man nor God is going to tell me what to write.

America is so vast that almost everything said about it is likely to be true, and the opposite is probably equally true.