Great restaurants are, of course, nothing but mouth-brothels. There is no point in going to them if one intends to keep one's belt buckled.

The great networks are there to prove that ideas can be canned like spaghetti. If everything ends up by tasting like everything else, is that not the evidence that it has been properly cooked?

Vichy proves one thing: if you don't want to know how low your fellow citizens can fall, and crawl, don't lose a war.

We thought philosophy ought to be patient and unravel people's mental blocks. Trouble with doing that is, once you've unravelled them, their heads fall off.

Mass communication communicates massively: its language lacks precise articulation and avoids demanding terms; it argues for the kind of behavior in life which will make a "good program": ethic equals showbiz.

At last, after innumerable glamorous and frightful years, mankind approaches a war which is totally predictable from beginning to end.

The television critic, whatever his pretensions, does not labour in the same vineyard as those he criticizes; his grapes are all sour.