The summer of 1943 at Exeter was as happy a time as I ever had in my life.

I began to know that each morning reasserted the problems of night before, that sleep suspended all but changed nothing, that you couldn’t make yourself over between dawn and dusk.

There was no harm in taking aim, even if the target was a dream.

I felt that I was not, never had been and never would be a living part of this overpoweringly solid and deeply meaningful world around me.

It seemed clear that wars were not made by generations and their special stupidities, but that wars were made instead by something ignorant in the human heart

What I mean is, I love winter, and when you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love.

As I said, this was my sarcastic summer. It was only long after that I recognized sarcasm as the protest of people who are weak.

But something held me back. Perhaps I was stopped by that level of feeling, deeper than thought, which contains the truth.

Sarcasm is the protest of the weak.

Peace is indivisible, and the surrounding world confusion found no reflection inside me.

We are all born equally far from the sun.

The world is come upon me, I used to keep it a long way off, But now I have been run over and I am in the hands of the hospital staff.

Maybe I'll understand today when tomorrow comes.

Analysis is soul of thought and ghost of wit.

The most important office is that of private citizen.

My account is paid in full. So, why are you calling me?

Fresh and clarifying, cool and refreshing, Lucite Green has a minty glow. Light in weight and also in tone, Lucite Green seems almost transparent.

I find the new Justin Bieber video more violent and more of an assault to my eyes and senses than what I've made.

I don't like novels that end happily. They depress me so much

Meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic.

When you go up in the ranking, for sure you have more friends.