History is nothing but a pack of tricks that we play upon the dead.
You have no control over the hand that life deals you, but how you play that hand is entirely up to you.
Our wretched species is so made that those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing a new road.
Let us cultivate our garden.
Perfect is the enemy of good.
Weakness on both sides is, as we know, the motto of all quarrels.