All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the base of our splendid failure to do the impossible.

...the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.

He made the earth first and peopled it with dumb creatures, and then He created man to be His overseer on the earth and to hold suzerainty over the earth and the animals on it in His name, not to hold for himself and his descendants inviolable title forever, generation after generation, to the oblongs and squares of the earth, but to hold the earth mutual and intact in the communal anonymity of brotherhood, and all the fee He asked was pity and humility and sufferance and endurance and the sweat of has face for bread.

She loved him not only in spite of but because he himself was incapable of love.

Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of planets.

My ideal job? Landlord of a bordello! The company's good and the mornings are quiet, which is the best time to write.

The end of wisdom is to dream high enough to lose the dream in the seeking of it.