The parade was here, but it disappeared around a corner.
Who strikes man with love -- God or the Devil?
I cannot get accustomed to war; my brain refuses to understand and explain a thing that is senseless in its basis. Millions of people gather at one place and, giving their actions order and regularity, kill each other, and it hurts everybody equally, and all are unhappy -- what is it if not madness?
Ah well, 'tis the way of the world -- births and deaths, births and deaths.
Who is all-powerful in the world? Who is most dreadful in the world? The machine. Who is most fair, most wealthy, and all-wise? The machine. What is the earth? A machine. What is the sky? A machine. What is man? A machine. A machine.
To succeed in life one needs two things -- influence and a lucky star.
Born, the Man assumes the name and image of humanity, and becomes in all things like unto other men who dwell upon the earth. Their hard lot becomes his, and his, in turn, becomes the lot of all who shall come after him. Drawn on inexorably by time, it is not given him to see the next rung on which his faltering foot shall fall. Bounded in knowledge, it is not given him to foretell what each succeeding hour, what each succeeding minute, shall have in store for him. In blind nescience, in an agony of foreboding, in a whirl of hopes and fears, he completes the cycle of an iron destiny.
You don't have pressure on yourself to have to go nuts.
I think failure is nothing more than life's way of nudging you that you are off course.
I think that the EU with the Lisbon agenda has put the right emphasis on growth and employment.
The ultimate mystery is one's own self.