They Can Send Death At Once, But

Ah, Genre. A Word Only A Frenchman Could Love.

Success Is Somebody Else's Failure.

In So Far As One Denies What Is, One Is Possessed By What Is Not, The Compulsions, The Fantasies, The Terrors That Flock To Fill The Void.

Elegance Is A Small Price To Pay For Enlightenment, And I Was Glad To Pay It.

A Scientist Can Pretend That His Work Isn't Himself, It's Merely The Impersonal Truth. An Artist Can't Hide Behind The Truth. He Can't Hide Anywhere.