Stupidity is the deliberate cultivation of ignorance.

What’s any artist, but the dregs of his work?

What's any artist, but the dregs of his work? the human shambles that follows it around. What's left of the man when the work's done but a shambles of apology.

Justice? You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law.

If you want to make a million you don't have to understand money, what you have to understand is people's fears about money

Power doesn't corrupt people; people corrupt power.

How some of the writers I come across get through their books without dying of boredom is beyond me.

...mementos of this world, in which the things worth being were so easily exchanged for the things worth having.

It is the bliss of childhood that we are being warped most when we know it the least.

We're comic. We're all comics. We live in a comic time. And the worse it gets the more comic we are.

How real is any of the past, being every moment revalued to make the present possible.

A compass calibrated by my greed is a rather shrewd way to legitimize my agenda. However, true north on a compass such as this is a straight line to the edge of a really big cliff.

Isn’t that the fantasy? If I go back in time, knowing what people back then didn’t know, then I can change history! But history made you what you are. And it’s bigger than any one man.

God is light.God is knowledge.

In the state of nature, wrong-doing is impossible ; or, if anyone does wrong, it is to himself, not to another.

Something got screwed up in terms of your priorities if you think it's more important to get rid of the dividend tax than it is to take care of 11 million kids.

Whatever a poet writes with enthusiasm and a divine inspiration is very fine. Earliest reference to the madness or divine inspiration of poets.

The goal of a designer is to listen, observe, understand, sympathize, empathize, synthesize and glean insights that enable him or her to “make the invisible visible

Love's very pain is sweet, But its reward is in the world divine Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.

Tennis, imprisoned within fixed boundaries, a patch of an acre, a green rectangle, tries the human soul. A tennis court is like a coffin, only larger.

I don't like doing interviews. There is always the problem of being misquoted or, what's even worse, of being quoted exactly.