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.

I could do without sex. Don't really like it that much. If I could just feel complete.

The party of God and the party of Literature have more in common than either will admit their texts may conflict, but their bigotries coincide. Both insist on being the sole custodians of the true word and its only interpreters.

During the years when the barely educated immigrants were being replaced by barely educated native sons, Hollywood . . . proved a more reliable, cost-effective means of securing world domination than any nuclear arsenal or diplomatic démarche.

Words, isolated in the velvet of radio, took on a jeweled particularity. Television has quite the opposite effect: words are drowned in the visual soup in which they are obliged to be served.

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

Your idea of fidelity is not having more than one man in bed at the same time.