Marxism Has Not Only Failed

There's Something Wonderfully Exciting About The Quiet Sing Song Of An Aeroplane Overhead With All The Guns In Creation Lighting Out At It, And Searchlights Feeling Their Way Across The Sky Like Antennae, And The Earth Shaking Snort Of The Bombs And The Whimper Of Shrapnel Pieces When They Come Down To Patter On The Roof.

A Satirist Is A Man Whose Flesh Creeps So At The Ugly And The Savage And The Incongruous Aspects Of Society That He Has To Express Them As Brutally And Nakedly As Possible In Order To Get Relief.

People Do Not Choose A Career; The Career Envelopes Them.

I Do A Lot Of Revising. Certain Chapters Six Or Seven Times. Occasionally You Can Hit It Right The First Time. More Often, You Don't.

I Dont Think There Is Anything On Earth More Wonderful Than Those Wistful Incomplete Friendships One Makes Now And Then In An Hour's Talk. You Never See The People Again, But The Lingering Sense Of Their Presence In The World Is Like The Glow Of An Unseen City At Night--makes You Feel The Teemingness Of It All.