The skull regarded Ralph like one who knows all the answers and won't tell.

I believe man suffers from an appalling ignorance of his own nature. I produce my own view in the belief that it may be something like the truth.

The novel is very much alive, indeed. In Toronto at the Sixth Annual International Festival of Authors (October 1985) I listened to novelists by the dozen.

Utopias are presented for our inspection as a critique of the human state. If they are to be treated as anything but trivial exercises of the imagination. I suggest there is a simple test we can apply. We must forget the whole paraphernalia of social description, demonstration, expostulation, approbation, condemnation. We have to say to ourselves, How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?

We did everything adults would do. What went wrong?

The mask was a thing on it's own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-conciousness.

My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.