My mother's mild-eyed sadness looks at me from the eyes of those I love.

The time I kill is killing me.

Stupidity is a fact of life, but unmentionable. The new Prudery.

Art chooses its constraints.

Self-conscious? Try a wig, a corset, a veil, a beard. Or cultivate shamelessness.

Unlike other vices, cruelty, alas, is never boring.

Cheap thrill: moral outrage revels in its own innocence and in the guilt of the wicked Others.