Sometimes I think it is a great mistake to have matter that can think and feel. It complains so.

Live by the harmless untruths that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.

You know what truth is? [...] It's some crazy thing my neighbor believes. If I want to make friends with him, I ask him what he believes. He tells me, and I say, "Yeah, yeah - ain't it the truth?

if there is a god, he sure hates people

We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.

People who are wary of what they might find in a book if they opened one are right to be.

The painting was framed in a misty view of sky, sea, and valley. Newt's painting was small, black, and warty. It consisted of scratches made in a black, gummy impasto. The scratches formed a sort of spider's web, and I wondered if they might not be the sticky nets of human futility hung up on a moonless night to dry.