Educationists are entertaining. We can always find a good laugh in their prose, with its special, ludicrous combination of ignorance and pretentiousness.

Far from failing in its intended task, our educational system is in fact succeeding magnificently, because its aim is to keep the American people thoughtless enough to go on supporting the system.

You can shoot the tiger, or stay out of his way, but you cannot pronounce him a vegetarian.

People who cannot put strings of sentences together in good order cannot think. An educational system that does not teach the technology of writing is preventing thought.

Thought control, like birth control, is best undertaken as long as possible before the fact.

If you cannot be the master of your language, you must be its slave. If you cannot examine your thoughts, you have no choice but to think them, however silly they may be.

His jargon conceals, from him, but not from us, the deep, empty hole in his mind. He uses technological language as a substitute for technique.

There is no other way to judge the work of a mind except through its words.

Education, I am convinced, must be nothing more than this: The journey toward the limits of Reason, if any there be.

An education that does not teach clear, coherent writing cannot provide our world with thoughtful adults; it gives us instead, at the best, clever children of all ages.

Who speaks reason to his fellow man bestows it upon them.

If you will invest the maximum amount of time in hard work, polishing and building your own land of promise, you will become great in life.

Reflection may be essential to a scholar, but it’s taboo in social intercourse.

Once you get into the habit of work, you can be more productive in the things you want to do.

A man who's active and incisive can yet keep nail-care much in mind: why fight what's known to be decisive? Custom is despot of mankind.

The two oldest professions in the world — ruined by amateurs.

The thing that I am most passionate about would be acting.

All the women in the world want a phony rock star who plays guitar.

How do you feel when I smile at you?" he asked - and then he did smile at her, just a little. Not like myself, Cath thought. "Like an idiot," she said softly. "And I never want it to stop.

Thing is, I don't like ties. I like to win....by big margins.

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.