The feminist notion that the whole of human history has been nothing but a vast intricate conspiracy by men to enslave their wives, mothers, daughters, and sisters presents us with an intellectual neurosis for which we do not yet have a name.

I've never yet read a review of one of my own books that I couldn't have written much better myself.

Money confers the power to command the labor of others. Love of money is love of power. And love of power is the root of evil.

We need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope.

Some people write to please, to soothe, to console. Others to provoke, to challenge, to exasperate and infuriate. I've always found the second approach the more pleasing.

What did Jesus say to the headwaiter at the Last Supper? 'Separate checks, please.'

When the philosopher's argument becomes tedious, complicated, and opaque, it is usually a sign that he is attempting to prove as true to the intellect what is plainly false to common sense.