But fantasy kills imagination, pornography is death to art.
Real misery cuts off all paths to itself.
You cannot have both truth and what you call civilisation.
We re all muddlers. The thing is to see is when one's got to stop muddling.
... half the world starves. What a planet. And the eating, if you're lucky enough to do any. Stuffing pieces of dead animals into a hole in your face. Then munch, munch, munch. If there's anybody watching, they must be dying of laughter.
The notion that one will not survive a particular catastrophe is, in general terms, a comfort since it is equivalent to abolishing the catastrophe.