I Had Committed Myself: Without Love I'd

My Two Fingers On A Typewriter Have Never Connected With My Brain. My Hand On A Pen Does. A Fountain Pen, Of Course. Ball-point Pens Are Only Good For Filling Out Forms On A Plane.

It Infuriated Him To Think That There Were Still People In The State Who Believed In A Loving And Merciful God. There Are Mystics Who Are Said To Have Experienced God Directly. He Was A Mystic, Too, And What He Had Experienced Was Vacancy--a Complete Certainty In The Existence Of A Dying, Cooling World, Of Human Beings Who Had Evolved From Animals For No Purpose At All.

For A Good Man Fame Is Always A Problem.

They Can Print Statistics And Count The Populations In Hundreds Of Thousands, But To Each Man A City Consists Of No More Than A Few Streets, A Few Houses, A Few People. Remove Those Few And A City Exists No Longer Except As A Pain In The Memory, Like A Pain Of An Amputated Leg No Longer There.

A Major Character Has To Come Somehow Out Of The Unconscious.