Benjamin De CasseresThinkers

Fame is the beauty-parlor of the dead.

A Genius is like a race horse without a good jockey when it arrives without vices.

George Bernard Shaw is a man whose brain is a half-inch layer of champagne poured over a bucket of Methodist near-beer.

Hope is the gay, skylarking pajamas we wear over yesterday's bruises.

Humiliation is the realisation that we have suddenly shrivelled up to our normal dimensions.

Progress is nothing but the victory of laughter over dogma.

The Proverb is, for the Greeks and Latins, a bright shaft in their quivers.