All progress is precarious, and the solution of one problem brings us face to face with another problem.
The truth is, my folk-lore friends and my Saturday Reviewer differ with me on the important problem of the origin of folk-tales. They think that a tale probably originated where it was found.
At the risk of sounding like a spoilsport, I’d say that pagans have about the same experience of otherness and isolation as anyone else. We’re not special in that regard. But this is because the problem of loneliness is almost universal – and that, to my mind, makes it much more serious.
When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid – in which case all comment is superfluous – or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
I’ve got no problem with anybody’s religion. But if you go claiming the Earth is only 10,000 years old, that’s just wrong.
The central problem of novel-writing is causality.
We are afraid of ideas, of experimenting, of change. We shrink from thinking a problem through to a logical conclusion.
Nicaragua dealt with the problem of terrorism in exactly the right way. It followed international law and treaty obligations. It collected evidence, brought the evidence to the highest existing tribunal, the International Court of Justice, and received a verdict – which, of course, the U.S. dismissed with contempt.
From the moment he took office in January of 1961, Kennedy had been eager to settle the Cuban problem without overt military action by the United States.
There was never a night or a problem that could defeat sunrise or hope.