When watching the news, it’s so easy to forget what most of us are like: pleasant, polite, socially shy. We don’t want rows, we want a quiet life. We feel inadequate because we don’t protest and argue...
These jokes the world plays, they're not funny at all.
People are masks, with masks under those masks, and masks under those, and down you
Only one-tenth of what you write will make it into your manuscript, but when you knock on that tenth – I rap my knuckles on the table – you’ll hear oaken solidity, not sawdust and glue.
Only professional diplomats, inveterate idiots and women view diplomacy as a long-term substitute for war.
Only the inanimate can be so alive.
Only the trombonist played on. That's trombonists for you.
While the wealthy are no more likely to be born stupid than the poor, a wealthy upbringing compounds stupidity while a hardscrabble childhood dilutes it, if only for Darwinian reasons. This is why the...
Or, if he’s feeling more poetic, it might be Now, Frobisher, the clarinet is the concubine, the violas are yew trees in the cemetery, the clavichord is the moon, so … let the east wind blow that A min...
Orito pictures the human mind as a loom that weaves disparate threads of belief, memory and narrative into an entity whose common name is Self, and which sometimes calls itself Perception.
Orito pictures the human mind that weaves disparate threads of belief, memory, and narrative into an entity whose common name is Self, and which sometimes calls itself Perception.
Other nights, Ayrs likes me to read him poetry, especially his beloved Keats. He whispers the verses as I recite, as if his voice is leaning on mine.
To get the crowd to cry Hosanna, you must first ride to town on an ass.
Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.
Our right to be here is weaker by the minute.
So do not fritter away your days. Sooner than you fear, you will stand before a mirror in a care home, look at your body, and think, E.T., locked in a ruddy cupboard for a fortnight.
People’re a nestful of needs. Dull needs, sharp needs, bottomless-pit needs, flash-in-the-pan needs, needs for things you can’t hold, needs for things you can.
Our will to power, our science, and those v. faculties that elevated us from apes, to savages, to modern man, are the same faculties that’ll snuff out Homo sapiens before this century is out!
Your turn has come to sift through the dreck of humanity for rare specks of originality
That love loves fidelity, she riposted, is a myth woven by men from their insecurities.
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