I was once asked if I had any ideas for a really scary reality TV show. I have one reality show that would really make your hair stand on end: "C-Students from Yale".

Trout's leading robot looked like a human being, and could talk and dance and so on, and go out with girls. And nobody held it against him that he dropped jellied gasoline on people. But they found his halitosis unforgivable. But then he cleared that up, and he was welcomed to the human race.

What is the purpose of life?...To be the eyes and ears and conscience of the Creator of the Universe, you fool!

I love you, Eliza,” I said. She thought about it. “No,” she said at last, “I don’t like it.” “Why not?” I said. “It’s as though you were pointing a gun at my head,” she said. “It’s just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don’t mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, ‘I love you, too’?

I'm mad about being old and I'm mad about being American. Apart from that, OK.

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.

For a Russian to be chivalrous with an American is a spiritual impossibility, a conradiction in terms.