Habits Are Happiness Of A Sort...

People Had Always Seemed To Gertrude Rather Like The Beasts In Animal Farm : All Equally Detestable, But Some More Equally Detestable Than Others.

Most Works Of Art Are, Necessarily, Bad...; One Suffers Through The Many For The Few.

From My Mother's Sleep I Fell Into The State, And I Hunched In Its Belly Till My Wet Fur Froze. Six Miles From Earth, Loosed From The Dream Of Life, I Woke To Black Flak And The Nightmare Fighters. When I Died They Washed Me Out Of The Turret With A Hose.

The Novel Is A Prose Narrative Of Some Length That Has Something Wrong With It.

I Think That One Possible Definition Of Our Modern Culture Is That It Is One In Which Nine-tenths Of Our Intellectuals Can't Read Any Poetry.