History records the names of royal bastards, but cannot tell us the origin of wheat.

The common people have no history: persecuted by the present, they cannot think of preserving the memory of the past.

History celebrates the battlefields whereon we meet our death, but scorns to speak of the plowed fields whereby we thrive. It knows the names of the king's bastards but cannot tell us the origin of wheat. This is the way of human folly.

Without feeling abashed by my ignorance, I confess that I am absolutely unable to say. In the absence of an appearance of learning, my answer has at least one merit, that of perfect sincerity.

We have within us, from the start, that which will distinguish us from the vulgar herd.

If there is one vegetable which is God-given, it is the haricot bean.

Seek those who find your road agreeable, your personality and mind stimulating, your philosophy acceptable, and your experience helpful. Let those who do not, seek their own kind.