The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in the stars but in our lousy genes. Or in the failure of one’s conquest of… — Philip José Farmer
The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in the stars but in our lousy genes. Or in the failure of one’s conquest of one’s self.
The fault, dear Brutus, is in our fear of knowing ourselves.
p. 171Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
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I had the honor to serve at the siege of Arras. Where I received a thrust through the throat, the second of the serious wounds that convinced me, along with all else I had seen of wars miseries and horrors, that Mars was the stupidest of the gods.
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Imagination was the great cozener of the past.
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As for the Bible, it was a book, and all books told the truth in the sense that their authors believed they were writing a kind of truth.
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