People are my only pastime
People are my only pastime. I do not walk about the streets lost in thought about some problem of politics or mathematics or philosophy, so no one interrupts my train of thought by speaking to me. I welcome them. When we say of anyone that he is boring, it is ourselves we are criticizing. We have not made ourselves that wide, shallow vessel into which a stranger feels he can pour anything. I have said that no one is boring who will tell the truth about himself. Here people tell the truth - or what they perceive to be the truth - because they know that nothing they might say will shock me or cause me to despise them. They tell me their life stories on steet corners while waiting for the traffic lights to change, because, like everyone in America who has been on television, I wear in public an expression of fatuous affability.
In other words, I have gone into the fame business. My agent tells me that I can't just 'do' fame, but I can.
When I go on television, I remember that there only one law prevails: the survival of the glibbest. If your interviewer asks the quention, 'What is the secret of the universe?', you do not stutter, you do not hesitate, above all you do not say, 'A good question.' You say, with a gracious smile, 'I am happy to tell you there is no secret.' The remark in inane, but you are smiling and your lips are moving. You'll be back.
In other words, I have gone into the fame business. My agent tells me that I can't just 'do' fame, but I can.
When I go on television, I remember that there only one law prevails: the survival of the glibbest. If your interviewer asks the quention, 'What is the secret of the universe?', you do not stutter, you do not hesitate, above all you do not say, 'A good question.' You say, with a gracious smile, 'I am happy to tell you there is no secret.' The remark in inane, but you are smiling and your lips are moving. You'll be back.