I Couldn't Go On, Too Conscious All

In University Courses We Do Exercises. Term Papers, Quizzes, Final Examinations Are Not Meant For Publication. We Move Through A Course On Dostoevsky Or Poe As We Move Through A Mildly Good Cocktail Party, Picking Up The Good Bits Of Food Or Conversation, Bearing With The Rest, Going Home When It Comes To Seem The Reasonable Thing To Do. Art, At Those Moments When It Feels Most Like Art -- When We Feel Most Alive, Most Alert, Most Triumphant -- Is Less Like A Cocktail Party Than A Tank Full Of Sharks.

Find A Pile Of Gold And Sit On It.

Our Noblest Hopes Grow Teeth And Pursue Us Like Tigers.

An Excellent Plumber Is Infinitely More Admirable Than An Incompetent Philosopher. The Society Which Scorns Excellence In Plumbing Because Plumbing Is A Humble Activity And Tolerates Shoddiness In Philosophy Because It Is An Exalted Activity Will Have Neither Good Plumbing Nor Good Philosophy. Neither Its Pipes Nor Its Theories Will Hold Water.

So Childhood Too Feels Good At First, Before One Happens To Notice The Terrible Sameness, Age After Age.