Why are you knocking at every door ? Go, knock at the door of your own heart.
Writing fiction is an endless and always defeated effort to capture some quality of life without killing it.
One thing I hate about the New Deal is that it is killing what, to me, is the American pioneering spirit. I simply do not know what to tell my own boys, leaving school and confronting this new world whose ideal is Security and whose practice is dependence upon government instead of upon one's self. All the old character-values seem simply insane from a practical point of view; the self-reliant, the independent, the courageous man is penalized from every direction.
Anyone who says that economic security is a human right, has been to much babied. While he babbles, other men are risking and losing their lives to protect him. They are fighting the sea, fighting the land, fighting disease and insects and weather and space and time, for him, while he chatters that all men have a right to security and that some pagan god—Society, The State, The Government, The Commune—must give it to them. Let the fighting men stop fighting this inhuman earth for one hour, and he will learn how much security there is.
As an American I am of course fundamentally opposed to democracy and to anyone advocating or defending democracy, which in theory and practice is the basis of socialism.
Men in Government monopolize the necessary use of force; they are not using their energies productively; they are not milking cows. To get butter, they must use guns; they have nothing else to use.
Happiness is something that comes into our lives through doors we don't even remember leaving open.
Why shouldn't people be able to buy movie tickets on Amazon? Or Google or Flixster, or IMDb? I don't care who you have a relashionship with. This isn't about Fandango or MovieTickets. This is about you. Where do you buy stuff? Are you an Amazon Prime member? Then I want to be on Amazon Prime. Are you a Yahoo guy? Then I want to sell on Yahoo. Are you a Google guy? Then I want to sell tickets on Google.
Shall I tell you the secret of the true scholar? It is this: every man I meet is my master in some point, and in that I learn of him.
Not my will, but Yours be done.
Sometimes, God gives you physical talent and takes away the brain.