The only way I can possibly heat my so-called mind up to working temperature is to imagine I'm talking to someone I admire.

Man is an animal whose dreams come true and kill him.

I dreamed horse and lived horse and expected, if necessary, to marry a horse; for all practical purposes I was a horse.

And here is our girl, looking-- If possible, worse than before. (You thought this was Cinderella transistorized?)

Anyone who shoots a real gun at you when drunk and angry is simply not husband material, regardless of his taste in literature.

Evil is the voltage of good; the urge to goodness, without the potential of evil, is trivial.

Absolutes are absolutely dangerous.