In India It Is Regarded As A

To Ask An Author Who Hopes To Be A Serious Writer If His Work Is Autobiographical Is Like Asking A Spider Where He Buys His Thread. The Spider Gets His Thread Right Out Of His Own Guts, And That Is Where The Author Gets His Writing.

Everything Matters. The Universe Is Approximately Fifteen Billion Years Old, And I Swear That In All That Time, Nothing Has Ever Happened That Has Not Mattered, Has Not Contributed In Some Way To The Totality.

In Too Many Modern Churches There Is No Emphasis On Theology At All. There Is A Kind Of Justification By Works Or By Keeping Up With Modern Trends Anything That Will Drag In A Few More People.

Though Thousands Of People Indulge Themselves In It Regularly, And Even Develop A Taste For It, There Is No Doubt In My Mind (and That Of Scientists Whom I Employ To Prove It) That Work Is A Dangerous And Destructive Drug, And Should Be Called By Its Right Name, Which Is Fatigue.

Comparatively Few People Know What A Million Dollars Actually Is. To The Majority It Is A Gaseous Concept, Swelling Or Decreasing As The Occasion Suggests. In The Minds Of Politicians, Perhaps More Than Anywhere, The Notion Of A Million Dollars Has This Accordion-like Ability To Expand Or Contract; If They Are Disposing Of It, The Million Is A Pleasing Sum, Reflecting Warmly Upon Themselves; If Somebody Else Wants It, It Becomes A Figure Of Inordinate Size, Not To Be Compassed By The Rational Mind.