If the dead could speak there would be no more war.
I need very little reality.
An artist is like a woman who can do nothing but love, and who succumbs to every stray male jackass.
Oh, that ludicrous virile earnestness!
I don't trust Catholics," I said, "because they take advantage of you." "And Protestants?" he asked with a laugh. "I loathe the way they fumble around with their consciences." "And atheists?" He was still laughing. "They bore me because all they ever talk about is God.
Strangely enough I like the kind to which I belong: people.