I rewrote the ending to 'Farewell to Arms,' the last page of it, thirty-nine times before I was satisfied.

Fear of death increases in exact proportion to increase in wealth.

My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way.

Wars are caused by undefended wealth.

I did ride a bike on the streets of Manhattan with four-and-a-half inch heels. Is that fun... or a death wish? You tell me. I was in severe pain, and everyone was laughing at me. That was great. I like when people laugh at me when I'm in pain.

Facing my own death brought an instant sense of clarity and purpose.

Hearing nuns' confessions is like being stoned to death with popcorn.

We ourselves can die with comfort and even with joy if we know that death is but a passport to blessedness, that this intellect, freed from all material chains, shall rise and shine.