There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.

If I was dead, I wouldn't know I was dead. That's the only thing I have against death. I want to enjoy my death.

If I were in the unenviable position of having to study my work my points of departure would be the "Naught is more real ..." and the "Ubi nihil vales ..." both already in Murphy and neither very rational.

I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.

My work is a matter of fundamental sounds (no joke intended) made as fully as possible, and I accept responsibility for nothing else. If people want to have headaches among the overtones, let them. And provide their own aspirin.

We could have saved sixpence. We could have saved fivepence. But at what cost?

How hideous is the semicolon.