People Who Boast Of Happy

We Need A Moral Philosophy In Which The Concept Of Love, So Rarely Mentioned Now By Philosophers, Can Once Again Be Made Central.

It Is Difficult In Life To Be Good, And Difficult In Art To Portray Goodness. Perhaps We Don't Know Much About Goodness.

Trains Induce Such Terrible Anxiety. They Image The Possibility Of Total And Irrevocable Failure. They Are Also Dirty, Rackety, Packed With Strangers, An Object Lesson In The Foul Contingency Of Life: The Talkative Fellow-traveller, The Possibility Of Children.

A Bad Review Is Even Less Important Than Whether It Is Raining In Patagonia.

I Hate Solitude But I Am Afraid Of Intimacy. The Substance Of My Life Is A Private Conversation With Myself And To Turn It Into A Dialogue Would Be Equivalent To Self-destruction. The Company I Need Is The Company Which A Pub Or A Cafe Will Provide. I Have Never Wanted A Communion Of Souls.