There are all sorts of dream interpretations, Freud’s being the most notorious, but I have always believed they served a simple eliminatory function, and not much more – that dreams are the psyche’s way of taking a good dump every now and then.
Politics always change. Stories never do.
It wasn’t just love that held people together. There was secrets, and the price you paid to keep them.
The harder you had to work to open a package, the less you ended up caring about what was inside.
Ninety-eight percent of what goes on in people’s heads is none of their smucking business.
Man has come to dominate the planet thanks to two essential traits. One is intelligence. The other has been the absolute willingness to kill anyone and anything that gets in his way.
Fools are the only folk on the earth who can absolutely count on getting what they deserve.
An idea is like a cold germ: sooner or later someone always catches it.
A person’s memory is everything, really. Memory is identity. It’s you.
Anyway, as the old barrelhouse song says, My God, how the money rolled in. Norton must have subscribed to the old Puritan notion that the best way to figure out which folks God favours is by checking their bank acounts.
A person can go along quite awhile if they get a good day every once and again.
I felt lonely and content at the same time. I believe that is a rare kind of happiness.
I think the best stories always end up being about the people rather than the event, which is to say character-driven.
Superstition, like true love, needs time to grow and reflect upon itself.
Like the man said, a little hope never hurt anybody.
Sarcastic people tend to be marshmallows underneath the armor.
The low bird is not picked tenderly out of the dust by its fellows; rather, it is dispatched quickly and without mercy.
She did not know if her gift came from the lord of light or of darkness, and now, finally finding that she didn’t care which, she wad overcome with almost indescribable relief, as if a huge weight, long carried, had slipped from her shoulders.
Whenever anything happens in America, they have to gold-plate it, like baby shoes. That way you can forget it.
Do you happen to have another Condom? I think I’ve discovered the cure for headaches.