How is the world ruled and led to war? Diplomats lie to journalists and believe these lies when they see them in print.
I still don't think I have a vocation - and writing is a way of avoiding one.
Bookish people drolly claim to be addicted. I think, in some cases, this is literally true. . . . I suppose this makes me a small-time pusher, holding a couple of capsules of a novel compound, looking for vulnerable readers for whom it might turn out to be habit-forming. There's enough of them. When I walk into a bookshop--one of the big ones, a vast dispensary stacked with complex uppers and downers--I can't help thinking, my God, what army of junkies is all this feeding?
I do not expect that homeopathy will ever be established as a legitimate form of treatment, but I do expect that it will continue to be popular.
It's not so much that I write well, I just don't write badly very often and that passes for good on television.
I wasn't one of those hideous children who make their parents sit through hour-long performances when you're seven. I didn't do anything like that thankfully.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, 'Arise, ye more than dead!' Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry, In order to their stations leap, And Music's power obey. From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.