I still believe that peace and plenty and happiness can be worked out some way. I am a fool.
I now make my living by being impolite. I am clumsy at it.
I have this disease late at night sometimes, involving alcohol and the telephone.
I had no talent for science. What was infinitely worse: all my fraternity brothers were engineers.
I consider anybody a twerp who hasn’t read Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville. There can never be a better book than that one on the strengths and vulnerabilities inherent in our form of government.
I believe that reading and writing are the most nourishing forms of meditation anyone has so far found. By reading the writings of the most interesting minds in history, we meditate with our own minds and theirs as well. This to me is a miracle.
I am from a family of artists. Here I am, making a living in the arts. It has not been a rebellion. It’s as though I had taken over the family Esso station.
History! Read it and weep!
Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you’ve been to college.
Evolution can go to hell as far as I am concerned. What a mistake we are. We have mortally wounded this sweet life — supporting planet — the only one in the whole Milky Way — with a century of transportation whoopee.
Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.
Every passing hour brings the Solar System forty-three thousand miles closer to Globular Cluster M13 in Hercules—and still there are some misfits who insist that there is no such thing as progress.
