Bourbon does for me what the piece of cake did for Proust.

But there is much to be said for giving up ... grand ambitions and living the most ordinary life imaginable.

A repetition is the re-enactment of past experience toward the end of isolating the time segment which has lapsed in order that it, the lapsed time, can be savored of itself and without the usual adulteration of events that clog time like peanuts in brittle.

In a word, the consumer of mass culture is lonely, not only lonely, but spiritually impoverished.

Home may be where the heart is but it's no place to spend Wednesday afternoon.

It is not merely the truth of science that makes it beautiful, but its simplicity.

You live in a deranged age, more deranged than usual because in spite of great scientific and technological advances, man has not the faintest idea of who he is or what he is doing.