The Sky, At Sunset, Looked

When People Read His Books They Have An Uncontrollable Desire To Hang The Author In The Town Square. I Can’t Think Of A Higher Honor For A Writer.

The World Is Alive And No Living Thing Has Any Remedy. That Is Our Fortune.

As Time Goes By, As Time Goes By, The Whip-crack Of The Years, The Precipice Of Illusions, The Ravine That Swallows Up All Human Endeavour Except The Struggle To Survive.

There's No Place On Earth With More Dumb Girls Per Square Foot Than A College In California.

Only In Chaos Are We Conceivable.