One of the things that authoritarians hate is the sound of laughter.
I will leap into my grave laughing because the feeling that I have five million human beings on my conscience is for me a source of extraordinary satisfaction.
Now that I look back, I realize that a life predicated on being obedient is a very comfortable life indeed. Living in such a way reduces to a minimum one's own need to think.
Adolf Hitler may have been wrong all down the line, but one thing is beyond dispute: the man was able to work his way up from lance corporal in the German Army to Führer of a people of almost 80 million. . . . His success alone proved that I should subordinate myself to this man.
To sum it all up, I must say that I regret nothing.
From my childhood, obedience was something I could not get out of my system. When I entered the armed service at the age of twenty-seven, I found being obedient not a bit more difficult than it had been during my life to that point. It was unthinkable that I would not follow orders.
I was one of the many horses pulling the wagon and couldn't escape left or right because of the will of the driver.
In poetry, even discourse about doubts must be cast in a discourse that cannot be doubted.
I will resist the urge to underestimate the complexity of knitting.
Every dude in here has had a fantasy about Jessica Simpson. Here's mine: Jessica, hold your sister Ashlee so I can kick her in the throat.
I've never taken myself too seriously, I'm not into that.