He's not the finest character that ever lived. But he's a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid.

Pop, I'm nothing! I'm nothing, Pop. Can't you understand that? There's no spite in it any more. I'm just what I am, that's all.

Tragedy enlightens - and it must, in that it points the heroic finger at the enemy of man's freedom. The thrust for freedom is the quality in tragedy which exalts. The revolutionary questioning of the stable environment is what terrifies.

The wedding of Christianity or Judaism with nationalism is lethal.

And old Dave, he'd go up to his room, y'understand, put on his green velvet slippers - I'll never forget - and pick up his phone and call the buyers, and without leaving his room, at the age of eighty-four, he made his living. And when I saw that, I realized that selling was the greatest career a man could want.

...an everlasting funeral marches round your heart.

Poor brain! How helplessly it dissolves when willing eyes meet and the nose warms to those old jungle scents.