For the task assigned them Men aren’t smart enough or sly Any rogue can blind them With a clever lie.
The right to happiness is fundamental; men live so little time and die alone.
Go make yourself a plan And be a shining light. Then make yourself a second plan, For neither will come right.
Of all the works of man I like best Those which have been used. The copper pots with their dents and flattened edges The knives and forks whose wooden handles Have been worn away by many hands: such forms Seemed to me the noblest.
General, man is very useful. He can fly and he can kill. But he has one defect: He can think.
What a miserable thing life is: you’re in clover; only the clover isn’t good enough.
Oh why do we not say the important things, it would be so easy, and we are damned because we do not.
With drooping shoulders The majority sit hunched, their foreheads furrowed like Stony ground that has been repeatedly ploughed-up to no purpose.
Their peace and their war Are like wind and storm. War grows from their peace.
Spring is noticed, if at all By people sitting in railway trains.
The headlong stream is termed violent But the river bed hemming it in is Termed violent by no one.
Here today we huddle tight As the darkest heathens might The snow falls chilly on our skin The snow is forcing its way in. Hush, snow, come in with us to dwell: We were thrown out by Heaven as well.
One forgets too easily the difference between a man and his image, and that there is none between the sound of his voice on the screen and in real life.
A person is really dead only when nobody thinks of him anymore.
When the leaders speak of peace, the common folk know war is coming.
Temptation to behave is terrible.
Fearful is the seductive power of goodness.
It isn’t important to come out on top, what matters is to be the one who comes out alive.
One must live well to know what living is.
If you don’t have fun, you don’t have a show.