Freedom, privileges, options, must constantly be exercised, even at the risk of inconvenience.

Nothing is more conspicuous than a farting princess.

What is peace? Balance three iron skewers tip to tip, one upon the other; at the summit, emplace and egg, so that it too poises static in mid-air, and there you have the condition of peace in this world of men.

A reader is not supposed to be aware that someone's written the story. He's supposed to be completely immersed, submerged in the environment.

I suspect that the word (art) was invented by second-rate intelligences to describe the incomprehensible activities of their betters.

Of all questions, why? is the least pertinent. It begs the question; it assumes the larger part of its own response; to wit, that a sensible response exists.

I do not care to listen; obloquy injures my self-esteem and I am skeptical of praise.