Perhaps the final secret of the Illuminati is that you don’t know you're a member until it’s too late to get out.

I think I got off on the wrong planet. Beam me up Scotty, there's no rational life here.

We are all giants, raised by pygmies, who have learned to walk with a perpetual mental crouch.

The novels that get praised in the NY Review of Books aren't worth reading. Ninety-seven percent of science fiction is adolescent rubbish, but good science fiction is the best and only literature of our times.

Editors always amputate the brain first and preserve a good-looking corpse.

I am filled with fear and tormented with terrible visions of pain. Everywhere people are hurting one another, the planet is rampant with injustices, whole societies plunder groups of their own people, mothers imprison sons, children perish while brothers war. O, woe.

You can "prove" anything on the verbal level, just be accepting the necessary axioms at the beginning.