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"The great American novel has not only already been written, it has already been rejected."
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"Americans are very friendly and very suspicious, that is what Americans are and that is what always upsets the foreigner, who deals with them, they are so friendly how can they be so suspicious they are so suspicious how can they be so friendly but they just are."

"I remember the Curia said, that's up to the American bishops, not up to Rome."

"The down side of Americans being obsessed with pop culture is that they kind of like it light."

"I have no doubts that it will be a major sport-in the United States. I'm probably not going to live to see that day because Americans are a little afraid of getting interested in something at which they're not very good."

"The only difference between the Bel Air of the '90s and the Bel Air of my childhood is that now the nannies are Latina instead of British, and the cars European instead of American."
Explore more quotes by W. Somerset Maugham


"I do not attachany exaggerated importance to my poetical works. Life isthere to be lived rather than to be written about. My aimis to search out the manifold experience that it offers,wringing from each moment what of emotion it presents.I look upon my writing as a graceful accomplishmentwhich does not absorb but rather adds pleasure toexistence. And as for posterity-damn posterity."


"It is clear that men accept an immediate pain rather than an immediate pleasure, but only because they expect a greater pleasure in the future. Often the pleasure is illusory, but their error in calculation is no refutation of the rule. You are puzzled because you cannot get over the idea that pleasures are only of the sense; but, child, a man who dies for his country dies because he likes it as surely as a man eats pickled cabbage because he likes it."


"I thought with melancholy how an author spends months writing a book, and maybe puts his heart's blood into it, and then it lies about unread till the reader has nothing else in the world to do."


"A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush, he told her, to which she retorted that a proverb was the last refuge of the mentally destitute."


"Only the poet or the saint can water an asphalt pavement in the confident anticipation that lilies will reward his labour."


"What do we any of us have but our illusions? And what do we ask of others but that we be allowed to keep them?"
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