Sleep is an eight-hour peep show of infantile erotica.

What our children have to fear is not the cars on the highways of tomorrow but our own pleasure in calculating the most elegant parameters of their deaths.

Elaborate burial customs are a sure sign of decadence.

Hell is out of fashion --institutional hells at any rate. The populated infernos of the 20th century are more private affairs, the gaps between the bars are the sutures of one's own skull. . .

It seems to me that what most of us have to fear for the future is not that something terrible is going to happen, but rather that nothing is going to happen... I could sum up the future in one word, and that word is boring. The future is going to be boring.

Art exists because reality is neither real nor significant.

But I wouldn't recommend writing. You can be a successful writer and never meet another soul. I'm not sure that's a good thing.