It Is Not, As Somebody Once Wrote,

All Things Of The Sea Belong To Venus; Pearls And Shells And Alchemists' Gold And Kelp And The Riggish Smell Of Neap Tides, The Inshore Green, And Purple Further Out And The Joy Of Distances And The Roar Of Falling Masonry, All These Are Hers, But She Doesn't Come Out Of The Sea For All Of Us.

The Main Emotion Of The Adult American Who Has Had All The Advantages Of Wealth, Education, And Culture Is Disappointment.

Without A Reader, I Cannot Write. It's Like A Kiss: They Cannot Be Done Alone.

What I Am Going To Write Is The Last Of What I Have To Say. I Will Say That Literature Is The Only Consciousness We Possess And That Its Role As Consciousness Must Inform Us Of Our Ability To Comprehend The Hideous Danger Of Nuclear Power.

The Deep Joy We Take In The Company Of People With Whom We Have Just Recently Fallen In Love Is Undisguisable.