Life, obviously, was only for the living.
“Not take prisoners,” Prince Andrew continued: “That by itself would quite change the whole war and make it less cruel. As it is we have played at war–that’s what’s vile! We play at magnanimity and all that stuff. Such magnanimity and sensibility are like the magnanimity and sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: she is so kind-hearted that she can’t look at blood, but enjoys eating the calf served up with sauce. …
“If there was none of this magnanimity in war, we should go to war only when it was worth while going to certain death, as now. … War is not courtesy but the most horrible thing in life; and we ought to understand that and not play at war. …”
If the statistics are boring, then you’ve got the wrong numbers. Finding the right numbers requires as much specialized skill—statistical skill—and hard work as creating a beautiful design or covering a complex news story.
What about all the rest of them? Do you think they’ll ever have to go back to hell?
Go back? I don’t know. I think hell’s something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go. … They’re doing the same things they always did. They’re doing it to themselves. That’s hell.
Young ladies have a remarkable way of letting you know that they think you a “quiz,” without actually saying the words. A certain superciliousness of look, coolness of manner, nonchalance of tone, express fully their sentiments on the point, without committing them by any positive rudeness in word or deed.
E-mail has undeniable benefits. It is faster than regular mail and cheaper and less obtrusive than the telephone. It can promote conversations among far-flung communities of people, and it can encourage otherwise reticent talkers to speak up, via computer terminals. But E-mail, in my view, also contributes to the haste, the thoughtlessness, and the artificial urgency that increasingly characterize our world.
To all of us the thought of heaven is dear–
Why not be sure of it and make it here?
Le Gallienne edition, quoted in The Portable Atheist
Fun Land: You can’t have her. She’s my friend. We were playing. She’s mine.
Dream: Let go of her, Nathan Diskin. She isn’t yours, Nathan. She belongs to no one, except perhaps to herself.
We all experience the constant drama of the new and the constant sorrow of the loss of what we’ve left behind.
In discussing mechanical or optical issues we must not lose sight of the much greater importance of image content—emotional, aesthetic, or literal. I believe there is nothing more disturbing than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept!