To Read Is To Surrender Oneself To

Jogging, I Believe They Call It. It Seems To Be An Epidemic Psychological Illness Afflicting Americans These Days. A Form Of Masochism, Like The Flagellantes In The Middle Ages.

Four Times, Under Our Educational Rules, The Human Pack Is Shuffled And Cut - At Eleven-plus, Sixteen-plus, Eighteen-plus And Twenty-plus - And Happy Is He Who Comes Top Of The Deck On Each Occasion, But Especially The Last. This Is Called Finals, The Very Name Of Which Implies That Nothing Of Importance Can Happen After It.

Any Language Is Necessarily A Finite System Applied With Different Degrees Of Creativity To An Infinite Variety Of Situations, And Most Of The Words And Phrases We Use Are "prefabricated" In The Sense That We Don't Coin New Ones Every Time We Speak.

Language Is The Net That Holds Thought Trapped Within A Particular Culture. But If One Could Only Strike The Ball With Sufficient Force, With Perfect Timing, It Would Perhaps Break Through The Netting, Continue On Its Course, Never Fall To Earth, But Go Into Orbit Around The World.

Perhaps That's What We're All Looking For - Desire Undiluted By Habit.