Only one letter divides the comic from the cosmic.

a person hoping to become a poet must have the capacity of thinking of several things at a time.

I am sufficiently proud of my knowing something to be modest about my not knowing all.

Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind?

Age indomitably, in the European manner. Do not finish your labours young. Be a planet, not a meteor. Honor the working day. Sit at your desk.

Some people—and I am one of them—hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm. Doom should not jam. The avalanche stopping in its tracks a few feet above the cowering village behaves not only unnaturally but unethically.

I confess, I do not believe in time.