But the more I read... after awhile... I begin to find they were all writing about the same thing, this same dull old here-today-gone-tomorrow scene... Shakespeare, Milton, Matthew Arnold, even Baudelaire, even this cat whoever he was that wrote Beowulf... the same scene for the same reasons and to the same end, whether it was Dante with his pit or Baudelaire with his pot... the same dull old scene...

Things you think you're saying for the first time ever, have been said better before by Shakespeare, though they may need saying again.

More was revealed in a human face than a human being can bear face to face.

Leary can get a part of my mind that's kind of rusted shut grinding again, just by being around him and talking.

The answer is never the answer. What's really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you'll always be seeking. I've never seen anybody really find the answer, but they think they have. So they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom. The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer.

He's the sort of guy that gets a laugh out of people.

To Vik Lovell who told me dragons did not exist, then led me to their lairs.