The individual cannot bargain with the State. The State recognizes no coinage but power: and it issues the coins itself.

And I needed a rock. Something to hold onto, to stand on. Something solid. Because everything was going soft, turning into mush, into marsh, into fog. Fog closing in on all sides. I didn't know where I was at all.

The king was pregnant.

This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.

Alone, no one wins freedom.

I know that nobody who hasn't been in battle or under attack can know what war is. But even in terms of being safe at home, it's also true that many Americans who think they know what being at war is, don't. Including, of course, George W. Bush and his people. They don't have a clue.

Fire and fear, good servants, bad lords.