Quality... You Know What It Is, Yet

The Birth Of A New Fact Is Always A Wonderful Thing To Experience. It's Dualistically Called A "discovery" Because Of The Presumption That It Has An Existence Independent Of Anyone's Awareness Of It. When It Comes Along, It Always Has, At First, A Low Value. Then, Depending On The Value-looseness Of The Observer And The Potential Quality Of The Fact, Its Value Increases, Either Slowly Or Rapidly, Or The Value Wanes And The Fact Disappears.

I Really Don't Mind Dying Because I Figure I Haven't Wasted This Life. Up Until My First Book Was Published I Had All This Potential, People Would Say, And I Screwed Up. After It, I Could Say: No, I Didn't Screw Up.

It Was The Ghost Of Rationality Itself ... This Is The Ghost Of Normal Everyday Assumptions Which Declares That The Ultimate Purpose Of Life, Which Is To Keep Alive, Is Impossible, But That This Is The Ultimate Purpose Of Life Anyway, So That Great Minds Struggle To Cure Diseases So That People May Live Longer, But Only Madmen Ask Why. One Lives Longer In Order That He May Live Longer. There Is No Other Purpose. That Is What The Ghost Says.

A Culture-bearing Book, Like A Mule, Bears The Culture On Its Back. No One Should Sit Down To Write One Deliberately. Culture-bearing Books Appear Almost Accidentally, Like A Sudden Surge In The Stock Market. There Are Books Of High Quality That Are A Part Of The Culture, But That Is Not The Same. They Are A Part Of It. They Aren't Carrying It Anywhere. They May Talk About Insanity Sympathetically, For Example, Because That's The Standard Cultural Attitude. But They Don't Carry Any Suggestion That Insanity Might Be Something Other Than Sickness Or Degeneracy.

If You Stare At A Wall From Four In The Morning Till Nine At Night And You Do That For A Week, You Are Getting Pretty Close To Nothingness.