Quotes from O. Henry

I'll give you the whole secret to short story writing. Here it is. Rule 1: Write stories that please yourself. There is no Rule 2.

The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet unknown fate.

I wanted to paint a picture some day that people would stand before and forget that it was made of paint. I wanted it to creep into them like a bar of music and mushroom there like a soft bullet.

She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed--necessary but scarcely noticed.

Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence

It couldn't have happened anywhere but in little old New York.

Write what you like; there is no other rule.

Pull up the shades so I can see New York. I don't want to go home in the dark.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl.

He seemed to be made of sunshine and blood-red tissue and clear weather.

Life is full of sniffles sobs and smiles. With sniffles predominating.

The most notable thing about Time is that it is so purely relative. A large amount of reminiscence is, by common consent, conceded to the drowning man; and it is not past belief that one may review an entire courtship while removing one's gloves.

Greenwich Village... the village of low rents and high arts.

There are stories in everything. I've got some of my best yarns from park benches, lampposts, and newspaper stands.

It was beautiful and simple, as truly great swindles are.

He studied cities as women study their reflections.

If a person has lived through war, poverty and love, he has lived a full life

It'll be a great place if they ever finish it.

But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

A]ll of life, as we know it, moves in little, unavailing circles. More justly than to anything else, it can be likened to the game of baseball. Crack! we hit the ball, and away we go. If we earn a run (in life we call it success) we get back to the home plate and sit upon a bench. If we are thrown out, we walk back to the home plate -- and sit upon a bench.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling—something