The urge for Chinese food is always unpredictable: famous for no occasion, standard fare for no holiday, and the constant as to demand is either whim, the needy plebiscite of instantly famished drunks, or pregnancy.

To value the tradition of, and the discipline required for, the craft of fiction seems today pointless. The real Arcadia is a lonely, mountainous plateau, overbouldered and strewn with the skulls of sheep slain for vellum and old bitten pinions that tried to be quills. It's forty rough miles by mule from Athens, a city where there's a fair, a movie house, cotton candy.

Faculty Meetings are held whenever the need to show off is combined with the imperative of accomplishing nothing.

I hate injustice, I despise inequity, I condemn hypocrisy, I abhor the lack of reason.

The urge for Chinese food is always unpredictable: famous for no occasion, standard fare for no holiday, and the constant as to demand is either whim, the needy plebiscite of instantly famished drunks, or pregnancy.

The ears, which master the face of a dunce, are that part of the head which most publishes stupidity.

Yellow is vagueness and luminousness, both.