It is the final proof of God's omnipotence that he need not exist in order to save us.

I made a tentative conclusion. It seemed from all of this that uppermost among human joys is the negative one of restoration: not going to the stars, but learning that one may stay where one is.

I tried to write worse but it was no good; my generalizations came out as before, each more exquisite than the last. I grew discouraged.

People rarely do what they don't want to.

Try the Lamentations of Jeremiah. They always pick me up.

The tuba is certainly the most intestinal of instruments, the very lower bowel of music.

Words fashioned with somewhat over precise diction are like shapes turned out by a cookie cutter.