What puppets we humans are - what puppets! Born without permission, dying when it is neither pleasant nor convenient, we are made to march or crawl through life on the edge of a precipice from which at any moment we may be knocked over. And we're told we should believe the experience is a privilege!

Death is dreadfully personal, terribly important to oneself, and so unimportant to the rest of the world.

What puppets we humans are - what puppets! Born without permission, dying when it is neither pleasant nor convenient, we are made to march or crawl through life on the edge of a precipice from which at any moment we may be knocked over. And we're told we should believe the experience is a privilege!

As for opinions, if they're not pleasant they'd better be kept to yourself. I learned that early in life and forget it every day.

Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for - I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.

In a man they forgive anything. In a woman nothing.

... the place you're in is pretty near what you're fitted to fill. Otherwise you'd get out and fill another.