There are men that are birds, and their raiment is trembling feathers, for they show their souls to everyone and everything that is ungentle or untutored or evil or mockery is as a rude stone cast at them, and they… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
A painter can hang his pictures, but a writer can only hang himself. — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
I know sage, wormwood, and hyssop, but I can't smell character unless it stinks. — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
The ruin of the human heart is self-interest, which the American merchant calls self-service. We have become a self-service populace, and all our specious… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
Ambition is a Dead Sea fruit, and the greatest peril to the soul is that one is likely to get precisely what he is… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
The ancients understood the regulation of power better than the regulation of liberty. — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
We are always talking about being together, and yet whatever we invent destroys the family, and makes us wild, touchless beasts feeding on technicolor… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
“Bosch is great because what he imagines in color can be translated into justice.” — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
Perhaps Samuel Johnson was a great man; he was certainly a drumbling one. — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
What is most appalling in an F. Scott Fitzgerald book is that it is peopleless fiction: Fitzgerald writes about spectral, muscledsuits; dresses, hats, and… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
Though man is the only beast that can write, he has small reason to be proud of it. When he utters something that is… — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
“Nobody heard her tears; the heart is a fountain of weeping water which makes no noise in the world.” — Edward Dahlberg Copy Share Image
