I'm struck by the insidious, computer-driven tendency to take things out of the domain of muscular activity and put them into the domain of mental activity. The transfer is not paying off. Sure, muscles are unreliable, but they represent several million years of accumulated finesse.
Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die.
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
He was one of those men who think that the world can be saved by writing a pamphlet.
I lived what most people call the good life. I was happy, but deep inside I always felt that, with the short amount of time we are given to live and love in this world, we spend too much time loving things instead of people.
Without the capacity to provide its own information, the mind drifts into randomness.
The first duty of a revolutionary is to get away with it.