There are circumstances in which suicide presents a viable option; a workable alternative; the only sensible solution.

The gurus come from the sickliest nation on earth to tell us how to live. And we pay them for it.

How long does it take to write a good book? All of the years that you've lived.

We live in a time of twin credulities: the hunger for the miraculous combined with a servile awe of science. The mating of the two gives us superstition plus scientism -- a Mongoloid metaphysic.

Death is every man's final critic. To die well you must live bravely.

The desert wears... a veil of mystery. Motionless and silent it evokes in us an elusive hint of something unknown, unknowable, about to be revealed. Since the desert does not act it seems to be waiting -- but waiting for what?

If, as some say, evil lies in the hearts and not the institutions of men, then there's hardly a distinction worth making between, say, Hitler's Germany and Rebecca's Sunnybrook Farm.