If I Have A Thousand Ideas And

A Recluse Without Books And Ink Is Already In Life A Dead Man.

If I Have A Thousand Ideas And Only One Turns Out To Be Good, I Am Satisfied.

A Heart Can No More Be Forced To Love Than A Stomach Can Be Forced To Digest Food By Persuasion.

Perhaps My Dynamite Plants Will Put An End To War Sooner Than Your [pacifist] Congresses. On The Day Two Army Corps Can Annihilate Each Other In One Second All Civilized Nations Will Recoil From War In Horror.

Worry Is The Stomach's Worst Poison.