I dare hope that all the peoples who have lived through communism will understand that communism is to blame for the bitter pages of their history.

Your friend will argue with you.

I had grown up among engineers, and I could remember the engineers of the twenties very well indeed: their open, shining intellects, their free and gentle humor, their agility and breadth of thought, the ease with which they shifted from one engineering field to another, and, for that matter, from technology to social concerns and art. Then, too, they personified good manners and delicacy of taste; well-bred speech that flowed evenly and was free of uncultured words; one of them might play a musical instrument, another dabble in painting; and their faces always bore a spiritual imprint.

Happiness doesn't depend on the actual number of blessings we manage to scratch from life, only our attitude towards them.

Literature that is not the breath of contemporary society, that dares not transmit the pains and fears of that society . . . loses the confidence of its own people, and its published works are used as wastepaper instead of being read.

If state, party and social policy will not be based on morality, then mankind has no future to speak of.

You took my freedom away a long time ago and you can't give it back because you haven't got it yourself.