The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself.
There is not enough love and goodness in the world to permit giving any of it away to imaginary beings.
There is always some madness in love. But there is always, also, some method in madness.
A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes.
Can an ass be tragic? To perish under a burden one can neither bear nor throw off?
We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.