All Our Failures Are Ultimately Failures In

... Half The World Starves. What A Planet. And The Eating, If You're Lucky Enough To Do Any. Stuffing Pieces Of Dead Animals Into A Hole In Your Face. Then Munch, Munch, Munch. If There's Anybody Watching, They Must Be Dying Of Laughter.

It Was Like Hunting Fish With An Underwater Gun, A Sport Which He Had Once Been Foolish Enough To Try. At One Moment There Is The Fish - Graceful, Mysterious, Desirable And Free - And The Next Moment There Is Nothing But Struggling And Blood And Confusion.

Every Book Is The Wreck Of A Perfect Idea.

I Feel Half Faded Away Like Some Figure In The Background Of An Old Picture.

We Shall Be Better Prepared For The Future If We See How Terrible, How Doomed The Present Is.