I Admired Anyone Who Could Unsettle People.

Perhaps Violence, Like Pornography, Is Some Kind Of An Evolutionary Standby System, A Last-resort Device For Throwing A Wild Joker Into The Game?

So He Left The Lagoon And Entered The Jungle Again, Within A Few Days Was Completely Lost, Following The Lagoons Southward Through The Increasing Rain And Heat, Attacked By Alligators And Giant Bats, A Second Adam Searching For The Forgotten Paradises Of The Reborn Sun.

The Car As We Know It Is On The Way Out. To A Large Extent, I Deplore Its Passing, For As A Basically Old-fashioned Machine, It Enshrines A Basically Old-fashioned Idea: Freedom. In Terms Of Pollution, Noise And Human Life, The Price Of That Freedom May Be High, But Perhaps The Car, By The Very Muddle And Confusion It Causes, May Be Holding Back The Remorseless Spread Of The Regimented, Electronic Society.

Most English Writers Are Not Interested In Change But In The Social Novel. That Demands A Static Backdrop. I'm Intensely Interested In Change - Probably As A Matter Of Self-preservation. What The Hell Is Going To Happen Next?

Deep Assignments Run Through All Our Lives; There Are No Coincidences.