[b]Tom Stoppard
To say that it is without pace, point, focus, interest, drama, wit or originality is to say simply that it does not happen to be my cup of tea.[/b]
Could it really be as simple [and vexing] as that?
I must stop compromising my plays with this whiff of social application. They must be entirely untouched by any suspicion of usefulness.
Like most of the philosophy here, he thought.
What is an artist? For every thousand people there’s nine hundred doing the work, ninety doing well, nine doing good, and one lucky bastard who’s the artist.
Even though, sure, he may well be starving.
If we can’t arrange our own happiness, it’s a conceit beyond vulgarity to arrange the happiness of those who come after us.
On the other hand, as some might put it, “fuck them”.
I agree with everything you say, but I would attack to the death your right to say it.
What am I missing here?
People do terrible things to each other, but it’s worse in the places where everybody is kept in the dark.
But not much worse he suspected.