If a man spends enough time in a library, he may actually change his mind. I have seen it happen.

Slum kids die slowly, their lives eroded at so languid a pace that even they would have trouble tracing the disintegration. To the children of war death explodes like a car bomb.

A library should be like a pair of open arms.

Remote control. Ingenious contradiction of terms. Fits like a handshake. Aims like a gun.

Every writing teacher gives the subliminal message, every time they teach: 'Your life counts for something.' In no other subject that I know of is that message given.

Come September, children return to school, grownups to work, and the brain to the head.

There is nothing like a man for bringing out the animal in an animal.