Sex Is A Slotmachine.

Why Won't They Let A Year Die Without Bringing In A New One On The Instant, Can't They Use Birth Control On Time? I Want An Interregnum. The Stupid Years Patter On With Unrelenting Feet, Never Stopping - Rising To Little Monotonous Peaks In Our Imaginations At Festivals Like New Year's And Easter And Christmas - But, Goodness, Why Need They Do It?

If There Is A Special Hades For Writers Is Would Be In The Forced Contemplation Of Their Own Works.

The Fascinating Thing To A Dispassionate Observer About The Structure Of Life In The Soviet Union Is That In Their Efforts To Produce An Unknown That We May Let Its Ideologists Call Socialism The Communist Dictators Have Produced A Brutal Approximation Of Monopoly Capitalism, A System That Has All The Disadvantages Of Our Own, With None Of The Palliatives Which Come To Us From Surviving Competition And From The Essential Division Of Economic And Political Power Which Has So Far Made It Possible For The Humane Traditions Of The Western World To Continue.

In The Last Twenty-five Years A Change Has Come Over The Visual Habits Of Americans . . . From Being A Wordminded People We Are Becoming An Eyeminded People.

In A Moment When Criticism Shows A Singular Dearth Of Direction Every Man Has To Be A Law Unto Himself In Matters Of Theatre, Writing, And Painting. While The American Mercury And The New Ford Continue To Spread A Thin Varnish Of Ritz Over The Whole United States There Is A Certain Virtue In Being Unfashionable.