The Mind Cannot Support Moral Chaos For

I Think The Satirist Is Always Basically Optimistic. The Satirist's Complaint About Society Is Always That It Doesn't Measure Up To A Fairly High Ideal He Has. I Think That Even The Bitterest Satirist, Even A Man Like Swift, Was Probably Rather An Optimist At Heart.

It's Rather Grisly, Isnt It, How Soon A Living Man Becomes Nothing More Than A Collection Of Stocks And Bonds And Debts And Real Estate?

Women Is Fine Once You Got Em Pinned Down, Boss, But When They Ain't Pinned Down They're Hell.

Eh Bien You Like This Sacred Pig Of A Country?" Asked Marco. "why Not? I Like It Anywhere. It's All The Same, In France You Are Paid Badly And Live Well; Here You Are Paid Well And Live Badly.

The Enormous Room Seems To Me To Be The Book That Has Nearest Approached The Mood Of Reckless Adventure In Which Men Will Reach The White Heat Of Imagination Needed To Fuse The Soggy Disjointed Complexity Of The Industrial Life About Us Into Seething Fluid Of Creation. There Can Be No More Playing Safe.