Perhaps our supercilious disgust with existence is a cover for a secret disgust with ourselves; we have botched and bungled our lives, and we cast the blame upon the environment or the world, which have no tongues to utter a defense. The mature man accepts the natural limitations of life; he does not expect Providence to be prejudiced in his favor; he does not ask for loaded dice to play the game of life. He knows, with Carlyle, that there is no sense in vilifying the sun because it will not light our cigars. And perhaps, if we are clever enough to help it, the sun will even do that; and this vast neutral cosmos may turn out to be a pleasant place enough if we bring a little sunshine of our own to help it out. In truth, the world is neither with us or against us; it is but raw material in our hands, and can be heaven or hell according to what we are.
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In Germany, Gunther Burpus remained wedged in his front-door cat flap for two days because passers-by thought he was a piece of installation art. Mr Burpus, 41, of Bremen, was using the flap because he had mislaid his keys. Unfortunately he was spotted by a group of student pranksters who removed his trousers and pants, painted his bottom bright blue, stuck a daffodil between his buttocks and erected a sign saying 'Germany Resurgent, an Essay in Street Art. Please give Generously'. Passers-by assumed Mr Burpus' screams were part of the act and it was only when an old woman complained to the police that he was finally freed. 'I kept calling for help,' he said, 'but people just said 'Very good! Very clever!' and threw coins at me.'
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I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry that is prose words in their best order-poetry the best words in the best order.
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A well-known scientist (some say it was Bertrand Russell) once gave a public lecture on astronomy. He described how the earth orbits around the sun and how the sun, in turn, orbits around the center of a vast collection of stars called our galaxy. At the end of the lecture a little old lady at the back of the room got up and said 'What you have told us is rubbish. The world is really a flat plate supported on the back of a giant tortoise.' The scientist gave a superior smile before replying, 'What is the turtle standing on' 'You're very clever, young man, very clever,' said the little old lady. 'But it's turtles all the way down.'
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Witticism. A sharp and clever remark, usually quoted and seldom noted; what the Philistine is pleased to call a joke.
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Don't worry about genius. Don't worry about being clever. Trust to hard work, perseverance and determination. And the best motto for a long march is: Don't grumble. Plug on!
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So, you're obviously the big dick. And there on either side of you are your balls. There are two types of balls. There are big, brave balls, and there are little, mincy faggot balls. You're dicks have driving clarity of vision. But they're not clever; they smell pussy, and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good ol' pussy, and have brought your two little, mincey, faggot balls along for a good ol' time. But you've got your parties muddled up. There's no pussy here- just a dose that will make you wish you were born a women. Like a prick, you're having second thoughts. You're shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with ya. And the fact that you've got 'Replica' written on the side of your guns. And the fact that I've got 'Desert Eagle .50' written on the side of mine, should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now fuck off!
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If human intelligence is largely a matter of heredity, then how stupid and gullible did God make Adam and Eve; how wise and clever the serpent?
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Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.
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The clever way death cuts us down, but makes it look like just a thinning-out. Generations never fall with one blow - that would be too sad and too obvious. Death prefers to do it piecemeal. The meadow is attacked from several sides at the same time. One of us goes one day; another some time afterwards; you have to stand back and look around you to take in what's missing, to grasp the vast slaughter of your generation...
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A wise man ought always to follow the paths beaten by great men, and to imitate those who have been supreme, so that if his ability does not equal theirs, at least it will savor of it. Let him act like the clever archers who, designing to hit the mark which yet appears too far distant, and knowing the limits to which the strength of their bow attains, take aim much higher than the mark, not to reach by their strength or arrow to so great a height, but to be able with the aid of so high an aim to hit the mark they wish to reach.
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The majority never has right on its side. Never, I say! That is one of these social lies against which an independent, intelligent men must wage war. Who is it that constitute the majority of the population in a country? Is it the clever folk, or the stupid? I don
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The artist will have had his revenge for being made to wait, A revenge not only necessary but right and clever—...
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When you argue with your inferiors, you convince them of only one thing they are as clever as you.
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At one time my only wish was to be a police official. It seemed to me to be an occupation for my sleepless intriguing mind. I had the idea that there, among criminals, were people to fight: clever, vigorous, crafty fellows. Later I realized that it was good that I did not become one, for most police cases involve misery and wretchedness -- not crimes and scandals.
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Man is a clever animal who behaves like an imbecile.
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Opinions mean nothing; they may be beautiful or ugly, clever or foolish, anyone can embrace or reject them.
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Josh Billings said, It is not only the most difficult thing to know oneself, but the most inconvenient one, too. Human beings have always employed an enormous variety of clever devices for running away from themselves, and the modern world is particularly rich in such stratagems.
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The notion of a universality of human experience is a confidence trick and the notion of a universality of female experience is a clever confidence trick.
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I say let me never be complete. I say let me never be content. I say deliver me from Swedish furniture. I say deliver me from clever art. I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth. I say you have to give up. I say evolve and let the chips fall where they may.
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Bastards, we may be, but clever are we.
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Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.
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You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel.
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Clever people seem not to feel the natural pleasure of bewilderment, and are always answering questions when the chief relish of a life is to go on asking them.
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There is no accident so disastrous that a clever man cannot derive some profit from it nor any so fortunate that a fool cannot turn it to his disadvantage.
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A stupid man's report of what a clever man says can never be accurate, because he unconciously translates what he hears into something he can understand.
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If you have an important point to make, don't try to be subtle or clever. Use the pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time; a tremendous whack.
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Against the beautiful and the clever and the successful, one can wage a pitiless war, but not against the unattractive: then the millstone weighs on the breast.
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One always has the idea of a stupid man as perfectly healthy and ordinary, and of illness as making one refined and clever and unusual.
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Most people tire of a lecture in 10 minutes clever people can do it in 5. Sensible people never go to lectures at all.
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