Every new time will give its law.

What I'd like is to meet a man I could take off my hat to and say: "Thank you for having got born, and the longer you live the better.

The intelligentsia ...was kept busy embroidering white stitches on the philosophical and ecclesiastical vestments of the bourgeoisie - that old and filthy fabric besmeared with the blood of toiling masses.

Writers build castles in the air, the reader lives inside, and the publisher inns the rent.

What can you do by killing? Nothing. You kill one dog, the master buys another-that's all there is to it.

One has to be able to count if only so that at fifty one doesn't marry a girl of twenty.

In the maxim of the past you cannot go anywhere.