Ground beef can hardly be classified as meat. A pureed animal is an aesthetic ideal.
When someone hands you a broom, get a few buckets of paint. That is how a janitor becomes an impressionist. If the 19th century French style could improve upon nature, it can make your floor look clean.
Art always makes life seem so artificial.
When a person encounters his own statue and takes a hammer to it, performance art adds depth to greatness. When a person encounters his own bust and hacks off his limbs and lower torso, body art sacrifices dimension for greatness.
The library does wonders for putting the mind in order. Just browsing the catalog, one can partake of an abundance of knowledge without ever having to read a single book.
JESSICA: When did you last go to London?HUGH: When I read a Dickens novel. That was when I resolved never to travel there.
I'm writing a book from the perspective of a migrating salmon. I'm titling it 'Stream of Instinct.' The style is low-functioning. While typing, I was diagnosed with autism.
A writer becomes an author when a hive of editors plagiarizes him. A manuscript becomes a book when neologisms are turned into coinages.
I study men like I study books: I skim their midsections.
I prefer a huge tome to a sharp epigram: only blunt words can hurt dull people
If death petrifies you, do something to ensure your likeness will survive in more than just photographs. Drown yourself in a swamp.
Death is too inevitable not to defy, life too fearful and uncertain to embrace.
Mom always said I was born to sit in the electric chair, but I proved her wrong. I died on my knees, begging for my life.
Did he die badly?Well...-Hey, so did my father! Our water was undrinkable for weeks.
An impending sense of doom, a weariness of decadence - these are the deep concerns of a generation which charges into the darkness naked holding wine spritzers.