There are no second acts in American lives.

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

I live in a house over there on the Island, and in that house there is a man waiting for me. When he drove up at the door I drove out of the dock because he says I’m his ideal.

We cannot gamble with American lives. I will not gamble with American lives.

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.