By Helping Yourself, You Are Helping Humankind.

California Is A Tragic Country — Like Palestine, Like Every Promised Land. Its Short History Is A Fever-chart Of Migrations — The Land Rush, The Gold Rush, The Oil Rush, The Movie Rush, The Okie Fruit-picking Rush, The Wartime Rush To The Aircraft Factories — Followed, In Each Instance, By Counter-migrations Of The Disappointed And Unsuccessful, Moving Sorrowfully Homeward.

If It’s Going To Be A World With No Time For Sentiment, It’s Not A World That I Want To Live In.

A Few Times In My Life I've Had Moments Of Absolute Clarity, When For A Few Brief Seconds The Silence Drowns Out The Noise And I Can Feel Rather Than Think, And Things Seem So Sharp. And The World Seems So Fresh As Though It Had All Just Come Into Existence. I Can Never Make These Moments Last. I Cling To Them, But Like Everything, They Fade. I Have Lived My Life On These Moments. They Pull Me Back To The Present, And I Realize That Everything Is Exactly The Way It Was Meant To Be.

Life Is Not So Bad If You Have Plenty Of Luck, A Good Physique, And Not Too Much Imagination.

His Life Has Been Lived, So Far, Within Narrow Limits And He Is Quite Naïve About Most Kinds Of Experience; He Fears It And Yet Is Wildly Eager For It. To Reassure Himself, He Converts It Into Epic Myth As Fast As It Happens. He Is Forever Play-acting.