What baffles me is the comfort people find in the idea that somebody dealt this mess. Blind and meaningless chance seems to me so much more congenial - or at least less horrible. Prove to me that there is a God and I will really begin to despair.
What we are assigned to bear is in a sense a measure of our stature.
Look at it this way: Psychoanalysis is a permanent fad.
I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork.
Do you believe in astrology? -I don't even believe in astronomy.
Life is a crowded superhighway with bewildering cloverleaf exits on which a man is liable to find himself speeding back in the direction he came.