I'm going to create a - the kind of a country that we were from the standpoint of industry. We used to be there. We've given it up. We've become very, very sloppy.
Choose your pleasures for yourself, and do not let them be imposed upon you.
Knowledge of the world in only to be acquired in the world, and not in a closet.
Few people do business well who do nothing else
At any age we must cherish illusions, consolatory or merely pleasant; in youth, they are omnipresent; in old age we must search for them, or even invent them. But with all that, boredom is their natural and inevitable accompaniment.
Physical ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life; some are taxed higher, and some lower, but all pay something.
As kings are begotten and born like other men, it is to be presumed that they are of the human species; and perhaps, had they thesame education, they might prove like other men. But, flattered from their cradles, their hearts are corrupted, and their heads are turned, so that they seem to be a species by themselves. . . . Flattery cannot be too strong for them; drunk with it from their infancy, like old drinkers, they require dreams.
God is using your present circumstances to make you more useful for later roles in His unfolding story.
I think comedy is so much easier to do on the page than it is in real life. When I'm writing, comedy is an easy way to win over the reader. You're automatically more disposed to keep reading, thinking maybe, "I'll get another laugh or two. " I think it's a survival instinct in me. I mean, you don't want to lose these guys within five or ten pages. You want them to keep going. I think to some extent it's a desperate measure that I throw out there, because a novel isn't a complete waste of time if it made you laugh.
One strange feeling, which I remember clearly, was a powerful link with the slain, particularly those that had fallen within the past hour or two. There was so much death around that life seemed almost indecent. Some men's uniforms were soaked with gobs of blood. The ground was sodden with it. I killed, too.
The botanist looks upon the astronomer as a being unworthy of his regard; and he that is glowing great and happy by electrifying a bottle wonders how the world can be engaged by trifling prattle about war and peace.