I Believe In No Final Solutions.

That Human Existence Should Repeat Itself, Well And Good, But That It Should Repeat Itself Like A Hackneyed Tune, Or A Record A Drunkard Keeps Playing As He Feeds Coins Into The Jukebox...

Even A Fool Could See That One Didn't Need A War, Nuclear Or Otherwise, To Destroy Oneself; The Rising Cost Of Weaponry Could Do That Quite Nicely.

What Gave You This Idea Of An Imperfect God?' 'i Don't Know. It Seems Quite Feasible To Me. That Is The Only God I Could Imagine Believing In, A God Whose Passion Is Not A Redemption, Who Saves Nothing, Fulfills No Purpose--a God Who Simply Is.

A Specialist Is A Barbarian Whose Ignorance Is Not Well-rounded.

Every Stink That Fights The Ventilator Thinks It Is Don Quixote.