Without me there could be no everybody.

We're still benefiting from the sacrifices of people long dead, but we're also suffering from their errors.

Why is there still so much pain and suffering being produced when there's so little demand for it?

The fact that many things have no explanation ought to prevent them from happening; but it doesn't.

The future seems to be in good hands, it's the past I'm worried about.

I've found the secret of happiness, total disregard of everybody.

They laughed at Edison and Einstein, but somehow I still feel uncomfortable when they laugh at me.