It’s not the brains that matter most, but that which guides them – the character, the heart, generous qualities, progressive ideas.[Не ум главное, а то, что направляет его, – натура, сердце, благородные свойства, развитие.]
The brain is wider than the Sky.
Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters inside your skull.
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery – always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? Whats this passion for?
Your own brains ought to have the decency to be on your side!
Your brain is telling you that you can’t, but you don’t always have to listen to it.
You have a brain and mind of your own. USE IT, and reach your own decisions.
What does the brain matter compared with the heart?
Toil is man’s allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that’s more than either, the grief and sin of idleness.
To rub and polish our brains by contact with those of others.[Pour affiner notre cerveau par le frottement avec d’autres.]
There is no such thing as memory: the brain recalls just what the muscles grope for: no more, no less: and its resultant sum is usually incorrect and false and worthy only of the name of dream.
There are times when those eyes inside your brain stare back at you.
