Either I've invented a whole new logic or, ahem, I'm not playing with a full deck.

Activity does not necessarily mean life. Quasars are active. And a monk meditating is not inanimate.

The wisest people are the clowns, like Harpo Marx, who would not speak. If I could have anything I want I would like God to listen to what Harpo was not saying, and understand why Harpo would not talk.

There was a beauty in the trash of the alleys which I had never noticed before; my vision seemed sharpened, rather than impaired. As I walked along it seemed to me that the flattened beer cans and papers and weeds and junk mail had been arranged by the wind into patterns; these patterns, when I scrutinized them, lay distributed so as to comprise a visual language.

How undisturbed, the sleep of the foolish.

Science fiction writers, I am sorry to say, really do not know anything.

They wanted to have a good time, but they were like children playing in the street; they could see one after another of them being killed--run over, maimed, destroyed--but they continued to play anyhow.