In Relation To Them (animals), All People

I Know As A Writer How Valuable A Tool Is The Wastebasket. Perhaps God Throws Away Many Experiments Before He Finds The Right Expression. Perhaps We Are The Discards - Or We Could Be The Part He Keeps. This Mystery Is What Keeps Us All Going, To See What Happens In The Next Chapter.

When A Day Passes, It Is No Longer There. What Remains Of It? Nothing More Than A Story. If Stories Weren't Told Or Books Weren't Written, Man Would Live Like The Beasts, Only For The Day.

In The Half Darkness I Winked To My Other Self, My Mad Dictator, And Congratulated Him On His Droll Victory. I Closed My Eyes And Felt The Warmth Flowing From Shosha's Head To My Face. What Did I Have To Lose? Nothing More Than What Everyone Loses Anyway.

While Facts Never Become Obsolete Or Stale, Commentaries Always Do.

As Often As Herman Had Witnessed The Slaughter Of Animals And Fish, He Always Had The Same Thought: In Their Behavior Toward Creatures, All Men Were Nazis. The Smugness With Which Man Could Do With Other Species As He Pleased Exemplified The Most Extreme Racist Theories, The Principle That Might Is Right.