The tormentof human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that theself is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangled mind’ leaking away in lonely,wasteful self-conflict.
Whenpeople say women can’t be trusted because they cycle every month, myresponse is that men cycle every day, so they should only be allowed tonegotiate peace treaties in the evening.
Neverforget the power of silence, that massively disconcerting pause which goes onand on and may at last induce an opponent to babble and backtrack nervously.
Conflictis the gadfly of thought. It stirs us to observation and memory. Itinstigates to invention. It shocks us out of sheeplikepassivity, and sets us at noting and contriving.
