The Books I Haven't Written Are Better

Dining Out Is A Vice, A Dissipation Of Spirit Punished By Remorse. We Eat, Drink, And Talk A Little Too Much, Abuse All Our Friends, Belch Out Our Literary Preferences And Are Egged On By Accomplices In The Audience To Acts Of Mental Exhibitionism. Such Evenings Cannot Fail To Diminish Those Who Take Part In Them. They End On Monkey Hill.

There Cannot Be A Personal God Without A Pessimistic Religion. As Soon As There Is A Personal God He Is A Disappointing God.

Whom The Gods Wish To Destroy They First Call Promising.

The Reward Of Art Is Not Fame Or Success But Intoxication.

Peace ... Is A Morbid Condition, Due To A Surplus Of Civilians, Which War Seeks To Remedy.