The most despicable humans are the ones who always feel virtuous and look down on the rest of the world.
Silence makes even idiots seem wise for a minute.
Poetry is written with tears, novels with blood, and history with invisible ink.
Over time, loneliness gets inside you and doesn’t go away.
One can only convert a sinner, never a saint.
Old age is the lubricant of belief. When death knocks at the door, scepticism flies out of the window. A serious cardiovascular fright and a person will even believe in Little Red Riding Hood.
Nothing is fair. The most one can hope is for things to be logical. Justice is a rare illness in a world that is otherwise a picture of health.
Nothing important is learned, it is simply remembered.
It’s the student who makes the teacher, not the other way round.
It’s impossible to initiate a rational dialogue with someone about beliefs and concepts if he has not acquired them through reason.
It’s curious how easy it is to tell a piece of paper what you don’t dare say to someone’s face.
It seems that in the advanced stages of stupidity, a lack of ideas is compensated for by an excess of ideologies.
