The scent of frying astronomers long ago ceased to ascend to Yahweh.

The notion that anything is gained by fixing a language in a groove is cherished only by pedants.

The great achievement of liberal Protestantism was to make God boring.

Nine out of ten Americans are actually monarchists at bottom. The fact is proved by their high suseptibility to political claims by president's sons and other relatives, usually nonentities.

Why assume so glibly that the God who presumably created the universe is still running it? It is certainly conceivable that He may have finished it and then turned it over to lesser gods to operate.

I well recall my horror when I heard for the first time, of a journalist who had laid in a pair of what were then called bicycle pants and taken to golf; it was as if I had encountered a studhorse with his hair done up in frizzes, and pink bowknots peeking out of them. It seemed, in some vague way, ignominious, and even a bit indelicate.

Poetry is a comforting piece of fiction set to more or less lascivious music.