There is, in short, no great idea that stupidity could not put to its own uses [. . . . ] The truth by comparison, has only one appearance and only one path, and is always at a disadvantage.
Good government is no substitute for self-government.
Those who know how to think need no teachers.
Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.
Civil disobedience becomes a sacred duty when the state has become lawless or corrupt. And a citizen who barters with such a state shares in its corruption and lawlessness.
My faith is brightest in the midst of impenetrable darkness.
The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
I was always intrigued when I was growing up, and then in engineering school, with the idea of a perpetual machine. I think of the Wal-Mart culture as that.
My dream had always just been to do my work well, fall in love and build a life for myself.
I don't know anyone who has described that terrible yearning for ecstasy and immolation through music as lucidly as Sean Madigan Hoen in Songs Only You Know. Only a thorough initiate of the scene who also had some genius with language could summon the demotic yet electric voice for the job. If there is ruefulness, now, for the way he treated his body, his girlfriends, and his family, he wisely reprises in his book, in neon detail, the fever that once placed him in the same drunken boat with Iggy Pop, Rimbaud and Artaud.
What kind of idea are you? Are you the kind that compromises, does deals, accomodates itself to society, aims to find a niche, to survive; or are you the cussed, bloody-minded, ramrod-backed type of damnfool notion that would rather break than sway with the breeze? – The kind that will almost certainly, ninety-nine times out of hundred, be smashed to bits; but, the hundredth time, will change the world.