Sir Walter, being strangely surprised and put out of his countenance at so great a table, gives his son a damned blow over the face. His son, as rude as he was, would not strike his father, but strikes over the face the gentleman that sat next to him and said Box about: twill come to my father anon.
|
No language is rude that can boast polite writers.
|
Power optimization is circumstance dependent and it is the electronic correlate of human selfishness.
|
The essence of success is that it is never necessary to think of a new idea oneself. It is far better to wait until somebody else does it, and then to copy him in every detail, except his mistakes.
|
In the present age, alas! our pens are ravished by unlettered authors and unmannered critics, that make a havoc rather than a building, a wilderness rather than a garden. But, a lack! what boots it to drop tears upon the preterit?
|
He had read much, if one considers his long life; but his contemplation was much more than his reading. He was wont to say that if he had read as much as other men he should have known no more than other men.
|
People seek wealth to provide peace of mind ignoring all the consternation associated with its quest.
|
The movement of electrochemical impulses up neural tracts defines existence.
|
Science is not a sacred cow. Science is a horse. Don't worship it. Feed it.
|
Power's footstool is opinion and his throne the human heart.
|
Man should be ever better than he seems.
|