Immanuel Kant Quotes

But time has set its maggot on their track.

What ever truth drops on it eventually grinds to a powder.

The story of Willie Stark fascinated me because it was tackling the story of a man who outwardly has all the success one could possibly want and who is destroyed by his personal demons.

The road to perdition has ever been accompanied by lip service to an ideal.

A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within.

I believe that time destroys everything. You can take one beautiful apple, red. After a while, it becomes shrivelled and full of worms, just like what happens to us.

Time destroys everything.

Time is not kind to everything.

The body politic, as well as the human body, begins to die as soon as it is born, and carries itself the causes of its destruction.

Nothing cannot exist forever.

The corruption of the best things gives rise to the worst.

Time is the devourer of all things.

Nothing prospers to the end.

Civilizations die from suicide, not murder

Evil will destroy itself.

... it matters not what natural endowment a race may have if it prostitutes itself to the service of death.

You see, evil always contains the seeds of its own destruction. It is ultimately negative, and therefore encompasses its downfall even at its moments of apparent triumph. No matter how grandiose, how well-planned, how apparently foolproof of an evil plan, the inherent sinfulness will by definition rebound upon its instigators. No matter how apparently successful it may seem upon the way, at the end it will wreck itself. It will founder upon the rocks of iniquity and sink headfirst to vanish without trace into the seas of oblivion.

More than any other beauty (though it is true of all beauty except in art) passion seems to me to have the seeds of its own destruction in it.

Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.

Everything rises but to fall, and increases but to decay.

This world, which has the potential to be Eden, is instead the hell before Hell. In our arrogance, we have made it so.

Death devours all lovely things.

Nothing goes sour more easily than the life of pleasure.

The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.