Happiness comes only when we push our brains and hearts to the farthest reaches of which we are capable.

In the dark colony of night, when I consider man's magnificent capacity for malice, madness, folly, envy, rage, and destructiveness, and I wonder whether we shall not end up as breakfast for newts and polyps, I seem to hear the muffled cries of all the words in all the books with covers closed.

Satire is focused bitterness.

There was no answer, no solution, no sop, no deliverance. What, then, did I do? I read faster.

Words sing. They hurt. They teach. They sanctify. They were man's first, immeasurable feat of magic. They liberated us from ignorance and our barbarous past.

I sometimes think there is a dimension beyond the four of experience and Einstein: insight, that fifth dimension which promises to liberate us from bondage to the long, imperfect past

First-rate people hire first-rate people; second-rate people hire third-rate people.