People Don't Help Much.

One Thing Should Be Put Firmly. Where People Have Commented On That Novel [the Paper Men], They Generally Criticize The Poor Academic, Rick L. Tucker, Who Is Savaged By The Author, Wilfred Barclay. I Don't Think People Have Noticed That I Have Been Far Ruder About Barclay Than I Have Been About Tucker. Tucker Is A Fool, But Barclay Is A Swine. The Author Really Gets His Come-uppance.

An Orotundity, Which I Define As Nobelitis A Pomposity In Which One Is Treated As Representative Of More Than Oneself By Someone Conscious Of Representing More Than Himself.

He Found Himself Understanding The Wearisomeness Of This Life,where Every Path Was An Improvisation And A Considerable Part Of One's Waking Life Was Spent Watching One's Feet.

I Think Women Are Foolish To Pretend They Are Equal To Men, They Are Far Superior And Always Have Been.

It May Be -- I Hope It Is -- Redemption To Guess And Perhaps Perceive That The Universe, The Hell Which We See For All Its Beauty, Vastness, Majesty, Is Only Part Of A Whole Which Is Quite Unimaginable.