All Of Us Admire People We Don't

The Genius Of Man In Our Time Has Gone Into Jet-propulsion, Atom-splitting, Penicillin-curing, Etc. There Is None Over For Works Of Imagination; Of Spiritual Insight Or Mystical Enlightenment. I Asked For Bread And Was Given A Tranquilliser.

This Life In Us; However Low It Flickers Or Fiercely Burns, Is Still A Divine Flame Which No Man Dare Presume To Put Out, Be His Motives Never So Humane And Enlightened; To Suppose Otherwise Is To Countenance A Death-wish; Either Life Is Always And In All Circumstances Sacred, Or Intrinsically Of No Account; It Is Inconceivable That It Should Be In Some Cases The One, And In Some The Other.

I Don't Like Seeing People Angry.

Old Politicians, Like Old Actors, Revive In The Limelight. The Vacancy Which Afflicts Them In Private Momentarily Lifts When, Oncemore, They Feel The Eyes Of An Audience Upon Them. Their Old Passion For Holding The Centre Of The Stage Guides Their Uncertain Footsteps To Where The Footlights Shine, And Summons Up A Wintry Smile When The Curtain Rises.

The Three Most Disastrous Inventions Of Our Time Have Been The Birth Control Pill, The Camera And Nuclear Weaponry. The First Offers Sex In Terms Of Sterility, The Second Reality In Terms Of Fantasy, And The Third Security In Terms Of Destruction.