The art we need is the art of bearing the unbearable.
Its easy to make frends if you let pepul laff at you.
Strange about learning; the farther I go the more I see that I never knew even existed. A short while ago I foolishly thought I could learn everything - all the knowledge in the world. Now I hope only to be able to know of its existence, and to understand one grain of it. Is there time?
I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.
I am afraid. Not of life, or death, or nothingness, but of wasting it as if I had never been.
I can't help but admire the structural linguists who have carved out forthemselves a linguistic discipline based on the deterioration of writtencommunication. Another case of men devoting their lives to studying more and more about less and less-filling volumes and libraries with the subtle linguistic analysis of the grunt.
Intelligence and education that hasn't been tempered by human affection isn't worth a damn.
I think about my grandfather who's 89 years old, and the last thing he needs is more money out of his pocket.
Oh these mathematicians make me tired! When you ask them to work out a sum they take a piece of paper, cover it with rows of A's, B's, and X's and Y's. . . scatter a mess of flyspecks over them, and then give you an answer that's all wrong!
The essence of a novelist is to invent things and speak the truth, at the same time.
On stage, we just want to generate hysteria. We don't care about looking cool or posing.