What does all this stuff about flying saucers amount to? What can it mean? What is the truth?
Perfect nonsense goes on in the world. Sometimes there is no plausibility at all
Do we ever get what we really want? Do we ever achieve what our powers have ostensibly equipped us for? No: everything works by contraries.
The Lord grant we may all be tillers of the soil.
It is well-known that there are many faces in the world over the finishing of which nature did not take much trouble, did not employ any fine tools such as files, gimlets, and so on, but simply hacked them out with round strokes: one chop-a nose appears; another chop-lips appear; eyes are scooped out with a big drill; and she lets it go into the world rough-hewn, saing: "ALIVE!
As it is so strangely ordained in this world, what is amusing will turn into being gloomy, if you stand too long before it, and then God knows what ideas may not stray into the mind. . . Why is it that even in moments of unthinking, careless gaiety a different and strange mood comes upon one?
Don't blame the mirror if your face is faulty.
I don't pay attention to target audiences and therefore I often hear that I am a ratings killer, somebody who fundamentally doesn't care whether one person is watching or an entire soccer stadium.
I don't have a religion, you know. This is what I am. I am a Rastaman; so this is not religion. This is life.
Historians relate not so much what is done as what they would have believed.
Most writers enjoy two periods of happiness when a glorious idea comes to mind and, secondly, when a last page has been written and you haven't had time to know how much better it ought to be.