Fear of ridicule begets the worst cowardice.
Contemporary American children, if they are old enough to grasp the concept of Santa Claus by Thanksgiving, are able to see through it by December 15th.
A good heavy book holds you down. It's an anchor that keeps you from getting up and having another gin and tonic.
Obama's the most thoughtful-sounding president I can remember. He seems to be saying what he wants to say, and that is a great relief. He always sounds like he's thinking about what he's saying while he's saying it, and that's a rare thing in politicians.
I do not Twitter. I don't want to Twitter, and I don't see any point in Twittering. The last thing I want to do is tell people what I'm doing at the moment because I'm probably not doing what I'm supposed to be doing.
It's my belief that sanity lies in realizing that reality is not exactly what we had in mind.
People don't necessarily want or need to be done unto as you would have them do unto you. They want to be done unto as they want to be done unto.
I know a fellow who's as broke as the Ten Commandments.
I don't mind wearing a corset; it informs your posture, changes the way you move, you can't slouch.
It is our minds that create this world.
The marriage of reason and nightmare which has dominated the 20th century has given birth to an ever more ambiguous world. Across the communications landscape move the specters of sinister technologies and the dreams that money can buy. Thermonuclear weapons systems and soft drink commercials coexist in an overlit realm ruled by advertising and pseudoevents, science and pornography. Over our lives preside the great twin leitmotifs of the 20th century-sex and paranoia.