Surely The Glory Of Journalism Is Its

The Three Most Disastrous Inventions Of Our Time Have Been The Birth Control Pill, The Camera And Nuclear Weaponry. The First Offers Sex In Terms Of Sterility, The Second Reality In Terms Of Fantasy, And The Third Security In Terms Of Destruction.

God, Stay With Me, Let No Word Cross My Lips That Is Not Your Word, No Thoughts Enter My Mind That Are Not Your Thoughts, No Deed Ever Be Done Or Entertained By Me That Is Not Your Deed.

I Wouldn't Have Said That Anthony Eden Was Equipped By Nature To Deal With The Situation In The World Today. I Would Have Said That He Was Portentous, Sincere, Honest And Rather Stupid.

In Retrospect, All These Exercises In Self-gratification Seem Pure Fantasy, What Pascal Called, Licking The Earth.

It Is Only Possible To Succeed At Second-rate Pursuits - Like Becoming A Millionaire Or A Prime Minister, Winning A War, Seducing Beautiful Women, Flying Through The Stratosphere, Or Landing On The Moon. First-rate Pursuits - Involving, As They Must, Trying To Understand What Life Is About And Trying To Convey That Understanding - Inevitably Result In A Sense Of Failure. A Napoleon, A Churchill, Or A Roosevelt Can Feel Himself To Be Successful, But Never A Socrates, A Pascal, Or A Blake. Understanding Is Forever Unattainable.