It is idle to play the lyre for an ass.
If we hope for what we are not likely to possess, we act and think in vain, and make life a greater dream and shadow than it really is.
And though all streams flow from a single course to cleanse the blood from polluted hand, they hasten on their course in vain.
I beg you not to resort to demonstrations, for they have become nothing but burned paper.
I have the benefit of experience which tells me that sulking solves nothing
Chickenshit can be recognized instantly because it never has anything to do with winning the war.
We all sorely complain of the shortness of time, and yet have much more than we know what to do with. Our lives are either spent in doing nothing at all, or in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them.
We dribble away our life, little by little, in small packages - we don't throw it away all at once.
Excesses accomplish nothing. Disorder immediately defeats itself.
I'm not going to put my energy into dunking every time I get the ball. That's stupid.
In vain produced, all rays return; Evil will bless, and ice will burn.
Shuffling really isn't something you should be doing on your deathbed.
The shoddy work of despair, the pointless work of pride, equally betray Creation. They are wastes of life.
Actions are divided as regards their object into four classes; they are either purposeless , unimportant , or vain , or good .
There is a woman who swam around Manhattan, and I asked her, why? She said, it hadn't ever been done before. Well, she didn't have to do that. If she wanted to something no one had ever done before, all she had to do was vacuum my apartment.
