The dream of emancipation begins with discarding our chains and ends with discarding ourselves.
Publicists go to hell, not for their sins, but because the devil employs them to assure the residents that all is well, appearances notwithstanding.
To destigmatize what is perverse it is necessary to stigmatize not merely what is normal, but the very idea of normality itself.
Good fences make good neighbors irrelevant.
It is possible to oppose, in private, absurdities to which one is obliged to show fealty in public, but easier just to start believing them.
The Golden Rule is that there is no Golden Rule.
Endlessly we subdivide, periodize, punctuate — hours and minutes and seconds, phylum and family, genus and species, molecule and atom, hadron and quark, ancient and medieval and modern. Continuity surrounds us; yet we cannot abide it, can scarcely believe in it.
This is not the end of history. It is not even the beginning of the end of history. But it is, perhaps, the end of the end of history.
What is a trait, divorced from the man? A patch of color without a painting.
In Hollywood, no one knows anything, not even who wrote what.