In Poetic Thought, The Role Of The

The Surest Defense Against Evil Is Extreme Individualism, Originality Of Thinking, Whimsicality, Even - If You Will - Eccentricity. That Is, Something That Can't Be Feigned, Faked, Imitated; Something Even A Seasoned Imposter Couldn't Be Happy With.

Twentieth-century Russian Literature Has Produced Nothing Special Except Perhaps One Novel And Two Stories By Andrei Platonov, Who Ended His Days Sweeping Streets.

It Would Be Enough For Me To Have The System Of A Jury Of Twelve Versus The System Of One Judge As A Basis For Preferring The U.s. To The Soviet Union. I Would Prefer The Country You Can Leave To The Country You Cannot.

If There Is Anything Good About Exile, It Is That It Teaches One Humility. It Accelerates One’s Drift Into Isolation, An Absolute Perspective. Into The Condition At Which All One Is Left With Is Oneself And One’s Language, With Nobody Or Nothing In Between. Exile Brings You Overnight Where It Would Normally Take A Lifetime To Go.

I'm Not Trying To Be Ridiculous Or Funny, But It Was Rather Pleasant To Find Yourself In Isolation, In Solitary.