I Live, Which Is The Main Point.

Whenever Books Are Burned, Men Also In The End Are Burned.

You Talk Of Our Having An Idea; We Do Not Have An Idea. The Idea Has Us, And Martyrs Us, And Scourges Us, And Drives Us Into The Arena To Fight And Die For It, Whether We Want To Or Not.

Silence Is The Essential Condition Of Happiness.

He That Marries Is Like The Dogs Who Was Married To The Adriatic. He Knows Not What There Is In That Which He Marries; Mayhap Treasures And Pearls, Mayhap Monsters And Tempests, Await Him.

The Men Of Action Are, After All, Only The Unconscious Instruments Of The Men Of Thought.