One must not treat actors, athletes, rock stars, or television journalists as if they were sentient adults. They are performing monkeys, like children better seen than heard, and not entirely responsible for their own actions.
You cannot have a contemporary prison without contemporary furniture.
Civil war in America would be imminent if it could be fought without getting off the couch.
Few of the useful idiots I have known have been any use to me.
Hatred, at a very high pitch, becomes a difference not of degree but of kind — a second order, where one hates not just the object but anyone who likes it.
Never tell a man he’s funny: the idea, once implanted, is impossible, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, to dislodge.
What ends an episode of mass psychosis? Only fatigue.
To prefer the strange to the familiar, the far to the near, is in an adolescent a pretentious and mildly endearing tic; in an adult, a disease.
There would be less loose talk if the messenger were shot more often.
Humanity is forever in the grip of various mass hysterias, like little puddles of mimetic polyalloy, which occasionally gather themselves together, and then you have Terminator 2.
What is praise for the living but the wistful hope that someday, somehow, it will be requited?