Vivir es contradecirse. Equivocarse sin saberlo y saberlo luego. Mudar de piel, de estatura, de peinado, de criterio. Funciona en el plazo largo y en el vuelo corto, no hay forma de anticipar qu? viene ni de entender qu? pasa, cualquier intento de an?lisis es como cerrar una maleta sent?ndose en ella, cualquier pretensi?n de imparcialidad se frustra con la urgencia. La tentaci?n no es mentir: es concluir. Una pavesa inflamada cruza la estancia frente al ventanuco abierto, ?hace acaso falta m?s para confirmar el incendio? Para colgar al pir?mano. Para convertir en h?roe al bombero. Cae otra esquirla y ya son dos las marcas en el suelo, dos puntos para inventarse una recta que, al prolongarse, promete una meta segura en alg?n lugar del futuro. S?lo que cae otra esquirla. Fuera del patr?n so?ado. La recta ya no vale. Toca reimaginar el cuento".

This new environmental determinism (as, for instance, preached by John Dewey and his behaviorist forerunners) is an even more evil invention than Calvin's doctrine concerning predestination. Environment is merely a factor, an influence exercised on the human free will, but not a fatal and coercive power.

O principal ? n?o mentir. Quem mente para si mesmo e d? ouvido ? sua pr?pria mentira chega a tal extremo que n?o consegue ver nenhuma verdade em si ou naqueles que o rodeiam e, por conseguinte, perde completamente o respeito por si e pelos outros. (...) Quem mente a si pr?prio pode ser o primeiro a ofender-se. ?s vezes, ? t?o agrad?vel uma pessoa se ofender, n?o ? verdade? O indiv?duo sabe que ningu?m o injuriou, que tudo n?o passa de simples inven??o, que ele pr?prio mentiu e exagerou apenas para criar um quadro, para fazer de um gr?o uma montanha - sabe tudo e, no entanto, se ofende. Ofende-se a ponto se sentir prazer na ofensa e, desse modo, atinge o verdadeiro ?dio...

The best reaction to a paradox is to invent a genuinely new and deep idea.

Most men appear never to have considered what a house is, and are actually though needlessly poor all their lives because they think that they must have such a one as their neighbors have. As if one were to wear any sort of coat which the tailor might cut out for him, or gradually leaving off palm-leaf hat or cap of woodchuck skin, complain of hard times because he could not afford to buy him a crown! It is possible to invent a house still more convenient and luxurious than we have, which yet all would admit that man could not afford to pay for. Shall we always study to obtain more of these things, and not sometimes be content with less?

Marianne replaces the yogurt pot in the freezer now and asks Joanna if she finds it strange, to be paid for her hours at work - to exchange, in other words, blocks of her extremely limited time on this earth for the human invention known as money.

Of course, supernatural acts are what miracles are all about. They are, after all, precisely those things that circumvent the laws of nature. A God who can create the laws of nature can presumably also circumvent them at will. Although why they would have been circumvented so liberally thousands of years ago, before the invention of modern communication instruments that could have recorded them, and not today, is still something to wonder about.

Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.

In some remote corner of the universe, poured out and glittering in innumerable solar systems, there once was a star on which clever animals invented knowledge. That was the haughtiest and most mendacious minute of "world history"- yet only a minute. After nature had drawn a few breaths the star grew cold, and the clever animals had to die.

We are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of discovery, guided each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities.

love as a passion-it is our European specialty-must absolutely be of noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself.

The world has become sad because a puppet was once melancholy. The nihilist, that strange martyr who has no faith, who goes to the stake without enthusiasm, and dies for what he does not believe in, is a purely literary product. He was invented by Turgenev, and completed by Dostoevsky. Robespierre came out of the pages of Rousseau as surely as the People's Palace rose out debris of a novel. Literature always anticipates life. It does not copy it, but moulds it to its purpose.

Leaving your religion and having to invent your own system of values is a big deal, after all.

To be a God can ultimately become boring and degrading. There'd be reason enough for the invention of free will! A God might wish to escape into sleep and be alive only in the unconscious projections of his dream-creatures.

An inventor is a man who asks 'Why?' of the universe and lets nothing stand between the answer and his mind.

In some remote corner of the universe, poured out and glittering among innumerable solar systems, there once was a star on which clever animals invented knowledge.

There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

Fiction was invented the day Jonah arrived home and told his wife that he was three days late because he had been swallowed by a whale..

Man invented language to satisfy his deep need to complain.

I think hiccup cures were really invented for the amusement of the patient's friends.

It doesn't matter if they hate you, or embarrass you, or simply don't appreciate your genius for inventing the internet-

HUMAN BEINGS MAKE LIFE SO INTERESTING. DO YOU KNOW, THAT IN A UNIVERSE SO FULL OF WONDERS, THEY HAVE MANAGED TO INVENT BOREDOM. (Death)

You learn to write by writing, and by reading and thinking about how writers have created their characters and invented their stories. If you are not a reader, don't even think about being a writer.

I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.