Bad Literature Is A Form Of Treason.

In America, A Metrical Poem Is Likely To Conjure Up The Idea Of The Sort Of Poet Who Wears Ties And Lunches At The Faculty Club. In Russia It Suggests The Moral Force Of An Art Practiced Against The Greatest Personal Odds, As A Discipline, Solitary And Intense.

In The End, Like The Almighty Himself, We Make Everything In Our Image, For Want Of A More Reliable Model; Our Artifacts Tell More About Ourselves Than Our Confessions.

Creativity Is An Unending Exercise In Uncertainty.

It Would Be Enough For Me To Have The System Of A Jury Of Twelve Versus The System Of One Judge As A Basis For Preferring The U.s. To The Soviet Union. I Would Prefer The Country You Can Leave To The Country You Cannot.

An Object, After All, Is What Makes Infinity Private.