Voluntary action is at all times a resultant of the compounding of our impulsions with our inhibitions.
From hereon in all [temple] dining halls across the land will have an image of MaÃ±juÅ›rÄ« placed especially on the head seat atop of Piá¹‡á¸ola.â€ It also states, â€œIs is to forever be a permanent convention.â€ It is clearly understood that those who spent much time in that country and made no mention of this are, on the contrary, to be ashamed of studying abroad. Also, as to looking at outward appearances unaware of their contents â€“ wouldn't it be better to take everything into account?
Not observation of a duty but liberty itself is the pledge that assures fidelity.
â€ŽCivilization has been a continuous struggle of the individual or of groups of individuals against the State and even against society, that is, against the majority subdued and hypnotized by the State and State worship.
Let us not overlook vital things, because of the bulk of trifles confronting us.
People have only as much liberty as they have the intelligence to want and the courage to take.
They divided the country into five metropolitan and four rural regions. Within these they also greatly extended many powers of governments of the local communities.
Miss Mary, having been a journalist, had splendid powers of invention. I had never heard her tell a story in the same way twice and always had the feeling she was remolding it for the later editions.
Of all lies, art is the least untrue.
One becomes a critic when one cannot be an artist, just as a man becomes a stool pigeon when he cannot be a soldier.
One event sometimes had infinite ramifications and could change the whole settings of a person's life.
One mustn't always believe that feeling is everything. In the arts, it is nothing without form.
One ought to know everything, to write. All of us scribblers are monstrously ignorant. If only we weren?t lacking in stamina, what a rich field of ideas and similes we could tap! Books that have been the source of entire literatures, like Homer and Rabelais, contain the sum of all the knowledge of their times. They knew everything, those fellows, and we know nothing.
The best way to get praise is to die.
And, Legolas, when the torches are kindled and men walk on the sandy floors under the echoing domes, ah! Then, Legolas, gems and crystals and veins of precious ore glint in the polished walls; and the light glows through folded marbles, shell-like, translucent as the living hands of Queen Galadriel. There are columns of white and saffron and dawn-rose, Legolas, fluted and twisted into dreamlike forms; they spring up from many-colored floors to meet the glistening pendants of the roof: wings, ropes, curtains fine as frozen clouds; spears, banners, pinnacles of suspended palaces! Still lakes mirror them: a glimmering world looks up from dark pools covered with clear glass; cities, such as the mind of Durin could scarce have imagined in his sleep, stretch on through avenues and pillared courts, on into the dark recesses where no light can come, And plink! A silver drop falls, and the round wrinkles in the glass make all the towers bend and waver like weeds and corals in a grotto of the sea. Then evening comes: they fade and twinkle out; the torches pass on into another chamber and another dream. There is chamber after chamber, Legolas; hall opening out of hall, dome after dome, stair beyond stair; and still the winding paths lead on into the mountains? heart. Caves! The Caverns of Helm?s Deep! Happy was the chance that drove me there! It makes me weep to leave them.