“In the dark times Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing. About the dark times.”

I don’t trust him. We’re friends.

But something’s missing.

Realist writing, of which history offers many widely varying examples, is likewise conditioned by the question of how, when and for what class it is made use of.

One must live well to know what living is.

For the task assigned them Men aren’t smart enough or sly Any rogue can blind them With a clever lie.

The first time it was reported that our friends were being butchered there was a cry of horror. Then a hundred were butchered. But when a thousand were butchered and there was no end to the butchery, a blanket of silence spread.

Do not fear death so much but rather the inadequate life.

People cannot remain good unless good is expected of them.

In the contradiction lies the hope.

One cannot be arraigned for declaring a war, which every ruler has to do once in a while, but only for running a war badly.

The worst illiterate is the political illiterate. He hears nothing, sees nothing, takes no part in political life. He doesn’t seem to know that the cost of living, the price of beans, of flour, of rent, of medicines all depend on political decisions.

What’s a joy to the one is a nightmare to the other.

Go make yourself a plan And be a shining light. Then make yourself a second plan, For neither will come right.

Those who have had no share in the good fortunes of the mighty Often have a share in their misfortunes.

The storm that bends the birch trees Is held to be violent But how about the storm That bends the backs of the roadworkers?

Grub first, then ethics.