O. Henry
O. Henry
William Sydney Porter, known by his pen name O. Henry, was an American short story writer. O. Henry's short stories are known for their wit, wordplay, warm characterization, and surprise endings...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth11 September 1862
CityGreensboro, NC
CountryUnited States of America
amazing area asset attracted attraction looking originally replicate uniqueness
What attracted me originally was the uniqueness of the asset in the area we were actually looking for. It was such an amazing attraction to us. You just can't replicate it.
adventure fate fate-and-destiny
The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet unknown fate.
thanksgiving one-day biscuits
There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.
way turns
It ain't the roads we take; it's what's inside of us that makes us turn out the way we do.
reflection cities study
He studied cities as women study their reflections.
friendship inspiring funny-best-friend
No friendship is an accident.
life reflection littles
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.
yarn benches parks
There are stories in everything. I've got some of my best yarns from park benches, lampposts, and newspaper stands.
communication conversation dough
Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
pills stories sugar
A good story is like a bitter pill, with the sugar coating inside of it.
thanksgiving home self
There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.
mushrooms people bullets
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.
writing
Write what you like; there is no other rule.
invisible ownership strands
She plucked from my lapel the invisible strand of lint (the universal act of woman to proclaim ownership).