“Every man’s happiness is built on the unhappi-ness of another.”

Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late.

I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.

We’re young, we’re not monsters, no fools: we’ll conquer happiness for ourselves.

Great God, grant that twice two be not four.

Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

Whatever a person may pray for, that person prays for a miracle. Every prayer comes down to this – Almighty God, grant that two times two not equal four.

What’s important is that twice two is four and all the rest’s nonsense.

Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. “I don’t adopt any one’s ideas; I have my own.

I’m through with Tolstoy. He has ceased to exist for me…. If I eat a bowl of soup and like it, I know by that fact alone and with absolute certainty that Tolstoy will find it bad, and vice versa.

Everyone needs help from everyone else.

Go forward while you can, but if your strength fails you, sit down near the road and gaze without anger or envy at those who pass by. They don’t have far to go, either.

In my case there was no first love. I began with the second.

Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late. It can give no pleasure, yet it deprives you of that most precious of rights – the right to swear and curse at your fate!

Illness isn’t the only thing that spoils the appetite.

Nature is not a temple, but a workshop, and man’s the workman in it.

Nature cares nothing for logic, our human logic: she has her own, which we do not recognize and do not acknowledge until we are crushed under its wheel.

As we write, so we build: to keep a record of what matters to us.

I’m delighted. I don’t know of anybody who had a statue built of them while they were living. It’s a great feeling.

The institutions that we’ve built up over the years to protect our individual privacy rights from the government don’t apply to the private sector.

Though I developed my own personal spiritual relationship later in life, the foundation they laid is what my faith was built upon.

Language is the ticket to plot and character, after all, because both are built out of language.

Bill Hicks – blowtorch, excavator, truthsayer, and brain specialist. He will correct your vision. Others will drive on the road he built.

A few thousand are to be built in the next few years, all using taxpayer money. But there is no system, no research, no content, no good programs, no good managers.

The Afghans can’t point and say, “Oh, the Americans built that road. They built that telecommunications facility.