Cowboys make better lovers: Ask any cow.

It is always dishonest for a reviewer to review the author instead of the author's book.

Literary critics, like a herd of cows or a school of fish, always face in the same direction, obeying that love for unity that every critic requires.

How strange and wonderful is our home, our earth, with its swirling vaporous atmosphere, its flowing and frozen liquids, its trembling plants, its creeping, crawling, climbing creatures, the croaking things with wings that hang on rocks and soar through the fog, the furry grass, the scaly seas.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of becoming a great man. Later, a good man. Now, finally, I find it difficult enough and honor enough to be -- a man.

What is truth? I don't know and I'm sorry I brought it up.

Our “neoconservatives” are neither new nor conservative, but old as Babylon and evil as Hell.