Lists only spell out the things that can be taken away from us by moths and rust and thieves. If something is valuable, don't put it in a list. Don't even say the words.

What surprises me about humanity is that in the end such a narrow range of plights defines our moral lives.

We decided that the French could never write user-friendly software because they're so rude.

I don't think anyone ever gets over anything in life; they merely get used to it.

When you're young, you always feel that life hasn't yet begun—that "life" is always scheduled to begin next week, next month, next year, after the holidays—whenever. But then suddenly you're old and the scheduled life didn't arrive. You find yourself asking, 'Well then, exactly what was it I was having—that interlude—the scrambly madness—all that time I had before?

Beware of the corporate invasion of private memory.

Society indeed conspires to keep you ball and chained.