It has always been my private conviction that any man who puts his intelligence up against a fish and loses had it coming.

We can shoot rockets into space but we can't cure anger or discontent.

I suppose our capacity for self-delusion is boundless.

The warfare between the unaroused male and female is constant and ferocious. Each blames the other for his loss of soul.

When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. I fear the disease is incurable.

The nicest thing in the world you can do for anybody is let them help you.

When two people meet, each one is changed by the other so you've got two new people.