We may be living in the twentieth century, in resplendent sophistication. But deep down, most of us find ourselves still in the Stone Age of superstition.

When books are opened, we discover that we have wings

The worst constructed play is a Bach fugue when compared to life.

We live in a very tense society. We are pulled apart... and we all need to learn how to pull ourselves together.... I think that at least part of the answer lies in solitude.

In the last stages of a final illness, we need only the absence of pain and the presence of family.

Legends die hard. They survive as truth rarely does.

At 50, you need to laugh about your age. If you don't, everybody else will do it for you. Happy birthday, old chum!