“The great question in life is the suffering we cause, and the most ingenious metaphysics do not justify the man who has broken the heart that loved him.”

Art for art’s sake, with no purpose, for any purpose perverts art. But art achieves a purpose which is not its own. (1804)

There are things one does not say for a long time, but, once they are said, one never stops repeating them.

No duty, however, binds us to these so-called laws, whose corrupting influence menaces what is noblest in our being.

There is a bizarre notion according to which it is claimed that because men are corrupt, it is necessary to give certain of them all the more power… on the contrary, they must be given less power.

Every time government attempts to handle our affairs, it costs more and the results are worse than if we had handled them ourselves.

Nearly always, so as to live at peace with ourselves, we disguise our own impotence and weakness as calculation and policy; it is our way of placating that half of our being which is in a sense a spectator of the other.

A gun fires of its own accord and a man is shot. And a broken-down old house no good for anything but chasing kids has to trip over us. Blind accidents. What can you do against blind accidents?

How have I never realized before that for all the strong, kind parts of him, there are also hurting, broken parts?

If you ask any police officer what the worst part of the job is, they will always say breaking bad news to relatives, but this is not the truth.

For those of you who may be unaware, [Michael] Boskin is the economist/weasel/fraud who helped to officially distort the CPI, making it more or less worthless as a measure of inflation.

I want to point the way to something that should forever lure them, when the TV set is broken and the movie is over and the school bell has rung for the last time.

The place I like best in this world is the kitchen. No matter where it is, no matter what kind, if it’s a kitchen, if it’s a place where they make food, it’s fine with me. Ideally it should be well broken in. Lots of tea towels, dry and immaculate. Where tile catching the light (ting! Ting!)” (p. 3).

In search of some rest, in search of a break From a life of tests where something’s always at stake Where something’s always so far What about my broken car?

I’ve fallen down crevasses, been bitten by snakes, been knocked unconscious, had various limbs broken and once, a heavy camera came plunging down which very nearly decapitated me.