A happy childhood can't be cured. Mine'll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that's all, instead of a noose. — Hortense Calisher Copy Share Image
Every art is a church without communicants, presided over by a parish of the respectable. An artist is born kneeling; he fights to stand.… — Hortense Calisher Copy Share Image
But memory, after a time, dispenses its own emphasis, making a feuilleton of what we once thought most ponderable, laying its wreath on what… — Hortense Calisher Copy Share Image
'Ms.' is a syllable which sounds like a bumble bee is breaking wind. — Hortense Calisher Copy Share Image
Diplomacy is what is practiced after-the-fact. Never be too right too soon -- as any smart Uncle will tell you. The man who guesses… — Hortense Calisher Copy Share Image
