There is something about a bureaucrat that does not like a poem.

Think of the earth as a living organism that is being attacked by billions of bacteria whose numbers double every forty years. Either the host dies, or the virus dies, or both die.

Ultimately, totalitarianism is the only sort of politics that can truly serve the sky-god’s purpose. Any movement of a liberal nature endangers his authority and that of his delegates on earth. One God, one King, one Pope, one master in the factory, one father-leader in the family at home.

Universities are filled with poets and novelists conducting demure and careful lives in imitation of Eliot and Forster and those others who (through what seems to be have been discretion) made it.

We should stop going around babbling about how we're the greatest democracy on earth, when we're not even a democracy. We are a sort of militarized republic.

When I hear about writer’s block, this one and that one! Fuck off! Stop writing, for Christ’s sake: You’re not meant to be doing this. Plenty more where you came from.

When the Presidential virus attacks the system there is a tendency for the patient in his fever to move from the Right or the Left to the Center where the curative votes are.

Whenever a friend succeeds, a little something in me dies.

World events are the work of individuals whose motives are often frivolous, even casual.

Write something, even if it's just a suicide note.