The love of a man for his wife, his child, of the land where he lives and works, is for me the real meaning of mystical experience.

When the writer has done his best, he then should proceed to do his second best.

If the world is irrational, we can never know it -- either it or its irrationality.

The ready availability of suicide, like sex and alcohol, is one of life's basic consolations.

Hierarchical institutions are like giant bulldozers -- obedient to the whim of any fool who takes the controls.

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.

Simply because humankind have the power now to meddle or 'manage' or 'exercise stewardship' in every nook and cranny of the world does not mean that we have a right to do so. Even less, the obligation.