“It is the malady of our age that the young are so busy teaching us that they have no time left to learn.”

Nothing comes easily. My work smells of sweat.

Should Americans begin to hate foreigners wholeheartedly, it will be an indication that they have lost confidence in their own way of life.

The beginning of thought is in disagreement – not only with others but also with ourselves.

Where freedom is real, equality is the passion of the masses. Where equality is real, freedom is the passion of a small minority.

One of the chief differences between an adult and a juvenile is that the adult knows when he is an ass while the juvenile never does.

We see through others only when we see through ourselves.

The savior who wants to turn men into angels is as much a hater of human nature as the totalitarian despot who wants to turn them into puppets.

Up to now, America has not been a good milieu for the rise of a mass movement. What starts out here as a mass movement ends up as a racket, a cult, or a corporation.

One of the surprising privileges of intellectuals is that they are free to be scandalously asinine without harming their reputations.

People who bite the hand that feeds them usually lick the boot that kicks them.

What monstrosities would walk the streets were some people’s faces as unfinished as their minds.

We can be absolutely certain only about things we do not understand.

Faith in a holy cause is to a considerable extent a substitute for lost faith in ourselves.

I hang onto my prejudices, they are the testicles of my mind.

You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you.

I can never forget that one of the most gifted, best educated nations in the world, of its own free will, surrendered its fate into the hands of a maniac.

Old age and treachery can always overcome youth and skill.

Staying young means being willing to learn, evolve, and be open to life.

We are entering the age of infinite examination and of compulsory objectification.

We stand at the end of the Age of Reason. A new era of the magical explanation of the world is rising.

Will you stay up late with me tonight? sit quietly while I write you into a piece of art that will be a marvel for the ages?

Life is a lonely journey. We expect and even believe that someone will always be there for us, but that illusion fades away with age and time.

Nostalgia seems to haunt me these days I wonder if it’s old age or just a phase.

Sometimes I get my youth confused with age.