You Have Your Words, And I Have

A Child Is Born Into A World Of Phenomena All Equal In Their Power To Enslave.

My Actual Childhood, As Opposed To My Adolescence, Was Not Spent In London.

Librarians As A Race Tend To Be Tedious.

Worship Isn't Destructive, Martin. I Know That. I Don't. I Only Know It's The Core Of His Life. What Else Has He Got? He Can Hardly Read. He Knows No Physics Or Engineering To Make To World Real For Him. No Paintings To Show Him How Others Have Enjoyed It. No Music Except Television Jingles. No History Except Tales From A Desperate Mother. No Friends. Not One Kid To Give Him A Joke, Or Make Him Know Himself More Moderately. He's A Modern Citizen For Whom Society Doesn't Exist.

Tragedy, For Me, Is Not A Conflict Between Right And Wrong, But Between Two Different Kinds Of Right.