I'm not sure I'm quite ready to have someone be a prospector of jobs for me, because I believe there's some kind of destiny involved with meeting people. . . some things are just meant to happen.
Help your pieces so they can help you
The ability to play chess is the sign of a gentleman. The ability to play chess well is the sign of a wasted life.
Chess never has been and never can be aught but a recreation. It should not be indulged in to the detriment of other and more serious avocations - should not absorb or engross the thoughts of those who worship at its shrine, but should be kept in the background, and restrained within its proper province. As a mere game, a relaxation from the severe pursuits of life, it is deserving of high commendation.
I am more strongly confirmed than ever in the belief that the time devoted to chess is literally frittered away.
Chess is eminently and emphatically the philospher's game.
Checkers is for tramps
With its hundred billion nerve cells, with their hundred trillion interconnections, the human brain is the most complex phenomenon in the known universe - always, of course, excepting the interaction of some six billion such brains and their owners within the socio-technological culture of our planetary ecosystem!
Anything that you throw comes back. All your actions are echoes.
Our whole dream for our home was for it to be an artist's haven. So there are paint supplies; there's a piano with a microphone and a recorder right there to capture things right in the second. There's editing equipment. There are cameras. I think the only thing in our house that people would be surprised by is the efficiency.
Men hang out their signs indicative of their respective trades; shoe makers hang out a gigantic shoe; jewelers a monster watch, and the dentist hangs out a gold tooth; but up in the Mountains of New Hampshire, God Almighty has hung out a sign to show that there He makes men.