Where men had once howled and hacked at one another, and fought nip-and-tuck with nature as well, the machines hummed and whirred and clicked, and made parts for baby carriages and bottle caps, motorcycles and refrigerators, television sets and tricycles-the fruits of peace.

If you really want to hurt your parents and you don't have nerve enough to be homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts.

Man is vile, and man makes nothing worth making, knows nothing worth knowing.

Love is where you find it. I think it is foolish to go looking for it, and I think it can often be poisonous.

I've often thought there ought to be a manual to hand to little kids, telling them what kind of planet they're on, why they don't fall off it, how much time they've probably got here, how to avoid poison ivy, and so on.

Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.

She was a dull person, but a sensational invitation to make babies.