Something can be done with people who put pickled onions in: strangulation seems best.
BERNARD DEVOTONew England is a finished place. Its destiny is that of Florence or Venice, not Milan while the American empire careens onward toward its unpredicted end. . . .
More Bernard DeVoto Quotes
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Between the amateur and the professional . . . there is a difference not only in degree but in kind.
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One may lack words to express the impact of beauty but no one who has felt it remains untouched. It is renewal, enlargement, intensification.
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The rat stops gnawing in the wood, the dungeon walls withdraw, the weight is lifted your pulse steadies and the sun has found your heart, the day was not bad, the season has not been bad, there is sense and even promise in going on.
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The West begins where the average annual rainfall drops below twenty inches. When you reach the line which marks that drop – for convenience, the one hundredth meridian – you have reached the West.
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The parks preserve it permanently in the inheritance of the American citizens.
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Art is man determined to die sane.
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The best reason for putting anything down on paper is that one may then change it.
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The heart wakens from coma and its dyspnea ends. Its strengthening pulse is to cross over into campground, to believe that the world has not been altogether lost or, if lost, then not altogether in vain.
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When evening quickens in the street, comes a pause in the day’s occupation that is known as the cocktail hour. It marks the lifeward turn.
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Sure the people are stupid: the human race is stupid. Sure Congress is an inefficient instrument of government. But the people are not stupid enough to abandon representative government for any other kind, including government by the guy who knows.
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The achieved West had given the United States something that no people had ever had before, an internal, domestic empire.
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The trouble with Reason is that it becomes meaningless at the exact point where it refuses to act.
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The trouble with the sacred Individual is that he has no significance, except as he can acquire it from others, from the social whole.
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The mind has its own logic but does not often let others in on it.
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Art is the terms of an armistice signed with fate.
BERNARD DEVOTO