This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me.

Look now — in all of history men have been taught that killing of men is an evil thing not to be countenanced. Any man who kills must be destroyed because this is a great sin, maybe the worst sin we know. And then we take a soldier and put murder in his hands and we say to him, 'Use it well, use it wisely.' We put no checks on him. Go out and kill as many of a certain kind or classification of your brothers as you can. And we will reward you for it because it is a violation of your early training.

It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.

Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag.

Once you have lived in New York and made it your home, no place else is good enough

Men seem to be born with a debt they can never pay no matter how hard they try.

I suppose our capacity for self-delusion is boundless.