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People who try to tell you what the blitz was like in London start with fire and explosion and then almost invariably end up with some very tiny detai...more

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It has always seemed strange to me...The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the conco...more

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Suddenly he knew joy and sorrow felted into one fabric. Courage and fear were one thing too.

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It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death b...more

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Morning seems to come earlier every year I live.

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Humans are caught -- in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and genero...more

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Curley's wife lay with a half-covering of yellow hay. And the meanness and the plannings and the discontent and the ache for attention were all gone f...more

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Muscles aching to work, minds aching to create - this is man.

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Beside them, little pot-bellied men in light suits and panama hats; clean, pink men with puzzled, worried eyes, with restless eyes. Worried because fo...more

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This you may say of man - when theories change and crash, when schools, philosophies, when narrow dark alleys of thought, national, religious, economi...more

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Jus' live the day. Don' worry yaself.

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They got to live before they can afford to die.

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We do know that we are cheated from birth to the overcharge on our coffins.

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Everything seems to work with a recurring rhythm except life. There is only one birth and only one death. Nothing else is like that.

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Death is a personal matter, arousing sorrow, despair, fervor, or dry-hearted philosophy. Funerals, on the other hand, are social functions. Imagine go...more