I didn't much like it, this grudge-holding against the past.

You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.

But who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.

Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.

You can think clearly only with your clothes on.

We yearned for the future. How did we learn it, that talent for insatiability?

Fatigue is here, in my body, in my legs and eyes. That is what gets you in the end. Faith is only a word, embroidered.

Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations.

By telling you anything at all I'm at least believing in you, I believe you're there, I believe you into being.

How furious she must be, now that she's been taken at her word.

To want is to have a weakness.

We live in the country. I'm a redneck. No, ha-ha. I live in L.A. County, but more in the hills. Not in the fancy kind! Trust me; whatever you do you do not want to come to my neighborhood!

I think people say you shouldn't work with children or animals, but you must only work with children.

Dr. S. Dillon Ripley, secretary of the Smithsonian Institute, believes that in 25 years, somewhere between 75 and 80 percent of all the species of living animals will be extinct.

The most loyal and faithful woman indulges her imagination in a hypothetical liaison whenever she dons a new street frock for the first time.

Children have but little charity for one another's defects

These years are still the years of my prime. It is important to recognise the years of one's prime, always remember that.

You made a point about proof. In this sort of history we do nt have proof... Yet... the incontrovertibility of the evidence can be plain even when it is not documentary or complete.

The commitment of government to deal with the population issue is of course essential....There are many ways to make the death rate increase.

Poets tell many lies.

"What did you do?" I scream. "You die, I die too."