Truth maybe stranger than fiction, but fiction is truer.

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.

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.

Talk isn't work. Work is when you have pages in the evening that you didn't have in the morning.

People resent articulacy, as if articulacy were a form of vice.

As Oscar Wilde should have said, when bad ideas have nowhere else to go, they emigrate to America and become university courses.

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.