Love Is Whatever You Can Still Betray.

In Itself, The Practice Of Deception Is Not Particularly Exacting; It Is A Matter Of Experience, Of Professional Expertise, It Is A Facility Most Of Us Can Acquire.

It Was Man Who Ended The Cold War In Case You Didn't Notice. It Wasn't Weaponry, Or Technology, Or Armies Or Campaigns. It Was Just Man. Not Even Western Man Either, As It Happened, But Our Sworn Enemy In The East, Who Went Into The Streets, Faced The Bullets And The Batons And Said: We've Had Enough. It Was Their Emperor, Not Ours, Who Had The Nerve To Mount The Rostrum And Declare He Had No Clothes. And The Ideologies Trailed After These Impossible Events Like Condemned Prisoners, As Ideologies Do When They've Had Their Day.

I Think That All Writers Feel Alienated. ... I Know That I Do. ... I Still Feel, As I Think Most Creative People Do, Absolutely Isolated.

I Think The Greatest Single Enemy Is The Misuse Of Information, The Perversion Of Truth In The Hands Of Terribly Skillful People.

There Is A Terrible Alienation In The Ordinary Man Between What He Is Being Told And What He Secretly Believes.