After ‘Lindbergh,’ my publisher asked whom I wanted to write about next. I said, ‘There’s one idea I’ve been carrying in my hip pocket for 35 years. It’s Woodrow Wilson.’
When I first was exposed to Buddhism in the mid-1960s, I said it was so practical and utterly pragmatic. That’s what attracted me to Buddhism.
When I quit all these things and said I didn’t have any time, I meant I didn’t have any time.
The doctor said, ‘He can’t last a week.’ And I did. And they said, ‘There’s no way this kid’s going to last a month.’ And I did. And so they said, ‘Two years. He’s not going to make it.’ Two years. ‘Five years. He can’t do that.’ I lived to be five years. ‘He’s never going to hit double digits.’ And here I am, a new teenager.
Jeff Sachs has the Millennium Villages. He spends $2.5 million in one village. It’s an absolutely ridiculous model, because I’ve said that if you gave me $2.5 million, I can train 100 grandmothers, solar electrify 100 villages – 10,000 houses – and save you 100,000 litres of kerosene.
The real being of language is that into which we are taken up when we hear it – what is said.
Of puns it has been said that those who most dislike them are those who are least able to utter them.
I put out a call on Twitter and Facebook and email for women to tell me their stories about their abortions. And many women said, ‘I told my boyfriend I was pregnant, and that was the last I ever heard of them.’
The more language is a living operation, the less we are aware of it. Thus it follows from the self-forgetfulness of language that its real being consists in what is said in it.
I asked a man in prison once how he happened to be there and he said he had stolen a pair of shoes. I told him if he had stolen a railroad he would be a United States Senator.