The elective system ... offered a bewildering freedom of choice, leaving some graduates with the impression that they had nibbled at dozens of canaps of knowledge and never had their fill.
Howard Hughes was able to afford the luxury of madness, like a man who not only thinks he is Napoleon but hires an army to prove it.
In America, the land of the permanent revolution, ulcers and cancer often become, for the men at the top, the contemporary equivalent of the guillotine.
When I slept, armies of footnotes marched across my dreams in close-order drill.
[It is a story] to satisfy the expectations of the average man, who wants awful things to happen to over prominent people.
He seemed embalmed in hatred.
The stammerer is ambivalent about communicating with others-he desperately wants to communicate, but is afraid of revealing himself.
A round ball of a man with protruding lower lip and seal-colored eyes, [he] spun like a top from continent to continent, jabbing a pudgy forefinger at everything that stood in his way.
It is less artificial than his other comedies. The epigrams do not seem to have been added on like candied cherries on a cake.
The stammer was a way of telling the world that he was not like others, a way of expressing his singularity.