"so now do you know why books are hated and feared? they show the pores in the face of life. the comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless."
"is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? is it because we're so rich and rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are?"
"there are too many of us, he thought. there are billions of us and that's too many. nobody knows anyone. strangers come and violate you. strangers come and cut your heart out. strangers come and take your blood. good god, who are those men? i never saw them before in my life!"
There are too many of us, he thought. There are billions of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out.
The clock telling you the hour and the minute and the second, with a white silence and a glowing, all certainty and knowing what it has to tell of the night passing swiftly on toward further darknesses but moving also toward a new sun.
With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginative creators, the word 'intellectual,' of course, became the swear word it deserved to be
Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore.
We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over