When I get sick of what men do, I have only to walk a few steps in another direction to see what spiders do. Or what the weather does. This sustains me very well indeed.

Trust me, Wilbur. People are very gullible. They'll believe anything they see in print.

In middle life, the human back is spoiling for a technical knockout and will use the flimsiest excuse, even a sneeze, to fall apart.

Who can confidently say what ignites a certain combination of words, causing them to explode in the mind? Who knows why certain notes in music are capable of stirring the listener deeply, though the same notes slightly rearranged are impotent? These are high mysteries, and this chapter is a mystery story, thinly disguised.

Our vegetable garden is coming along well, with radishes and beans up, and we are less worried about revolution that we used to be.

Everything in life is somewhere else, and you get there in a car.

Prejudice is a great time saver. You can form opinions without having to get the facts.