A man went to a shooting gallery, accompanied by his wife. He selected
a puppet, and said to his wife: "I imagine that's you." He closed his
eyes and beheaded the puppet. Then he said, kissing his companion's
hand: "Dear angel, how I thank you for my skill."
When I have inspired universal disgust and horror, I shall have won
solitude.
This book is not made for my wives, my daughters or my sisters. I have
few of such things.
God is a scandal, a scandal that rebounds.