“The shrill voices of those who give orders Are full of fear like the squeakings of Piglets awaiting the butcher’s knife, as their fat arses Sweat with anxiety in their office chairs…. Fear rules not only those who are ruled, but The rulers too.”

Who struggles can fail. Who doesn’t struggle has already failed!

Even the most blockheaded bureaucrat, provided he loves peace, is a greater lover of the arts than any so-called art-lover who loves the arts of war.

Temptation to behave is terrible.

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.

It is not enough to demand insight and informative images of reality from the theater. Our theater must stimulate a desire for understanding, a delight in changing reality.

Poverty makes you wise but it’s a curse.

What’s breaking into a bank compared with founding a bank?

The mobilization order is already written out. Every day, to earn my daily bread I go to the market where lies are bought Hopefully I take up my place among the sellers.

You may proclaim, good sirs, your fine philosophy But till you feed us, right and wrong can wait!

If you wan to steal money, don’t rob a bank – open one.

Impact lies in the vicinity of mistakes.

General, man is very useful. He can fly and he can kill. But he has one defect: He can think.

When the leaders speak of peace, the common folk know war is coming.

It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by holding up a bank clerk.

Reality changes; in order to represent it, modes of representation must also change. Nothing comes from nothing; the new comes from the old, but that is why it is new.

Art and science work in quite different ways: agreed. But, bad as it may sound, I have to admit that I cannot get along as an artist without the use of one or two sciences. …

I’ve always played the guy with the gun and the knife. That’s how many actors start out, playing the bad guy.

A doctor once told me that with crying you aren’t sure what its derivation is. If someone comes at you with a knife, you don’t cry: you scream, you try to run. When it’s over and you’re OK, that’s when you cry.

It (broadcast journalism) is a brutal arena where the knives are sharp and the toughest Kevlar vest in the world will not protect you forever.

I probably use my chef’s knives more than any other tool in the kitchen. I’m not married to a particular brand, because they all work, they all have sharp blades.

You don’t learn knife skills at cooking school, because they give you only six onions and no matter how hard you focus on those six onions there are only six, and you’re not going to learn as much as when you cut up a hundred.

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.

Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.

I have the greatest picture of Ted [Danson]. That was a big caper,