The New York Daily News suggested that my biggest war crime was not killing myself like a gentleman. Presumably Hitler was a gentleman.
People don't come to church for preachments, of course, but to daydream about God.
I'm wild again, beguiled again, a whimpering, simpering child again. Bewitched, bothered, bewildered am I.
Music is, to me, proof of the existence of God.
What had made me move through so many dead and pointless years was curiosity.
If it weren't for the message of mercy and pity in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, I wouldn't want to be a human being. I would just as soon be a rattlesnake.