We are all geniuses up to the age of ten.

Liberties are not given, they are taken.

The trouble with fiction," said John Rivers, "is that it makes too much sense. Reality never makes sense.

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. Anything might be done in that time. Anything. Nothing. Oh, he had had hundreds of hours, and what had he done with them? Wasted them, spilt the precious minutes as though his reservoir were inexhaustible.

Since Mozart's day composers have learned the art of making music throatily and palpitatingly sexual.

Man is an intelligence in servitude to his organs.

I had to depend on Braille for my reading and guide for my walking...I am now wearing no glasses, reading and all without strain...by taking lessons in seeing...optometrists hate the method.