The whole plan hinged upon the natural curiosity of potatoes.

Man does not create gods, in spite of appearances. The times, the age, impose them on him.

It has no meaning, what do you use to write, the only thing that is important is: what do you write. A machine to write a book instead of a writer is not invented yet, and probably will never be.

Is a mountain only a huge stone? Is a planet an enormous mountain?

I hadn't known there were so many idiots in the world until I started using the Internet.

This is another lie. We are only seeking Man. We have no need of other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can't accept it for what it is. We are searching for an ideal image of our own world: we go in quest of a planet, a civilization superior to our own but developed on the basis of a prototype of our primeval past.

He who has had, has been, but he who hasn't been, has been had.