He was always smoothing and polishing himself, and in the end he became blunt before he was sharp.
The man was such an intellectual he was of almost no use.
Do not say hypothesis, and even less theory: say way of thinking.
There can hardly be a stranger commodity in the world than books. Printed by people who don't understand them; sold by people who don't understand them; bound, criticized and read by people who don't understand them; and now even written by people who don't understand them.
Some people read only because they are too lazy to think.
Diogenes, filthily attired, paced across the splendid carpets in Plato's dwelling. Thus, said he, do I trample on the pride of Plato. Yes, Plato replied, but only with another kind of pride.