There is one other book, that can teach you everything you need to know about life... it's The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, but that's not enough anymore.

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.

I was taught that the human brain was the crowning glory of evolution so far, but I think it's a very poor scheme for survival.

That specific remedy for the worldwide epidemic of depression is a gift called the blues.

Where do I get my ideas from? You might as well have asked that of Beethoven. He was goofing around in Germany like everybody else, and all of a sudden this stuff came gushing out of him. It was music. I was goofing around like everybody else in Indiana, and all of a sudden stuff came gushing out. It was disgust with civilization.

In real life as in grand opera, arias only make hopeless situations worse.

What memories for mud to have.