You can't solve a problem? Well, get down and investigate the present facts and [the problem's] past history! When you have investigated the problem thoroughly, you will know how to solve it.

All political power comes from the barrel of a gun. The communist party must command all the guns, that way, no guns can ever be used to command the party.

Deaths have benefits. They can fertilise the ground.

Maybe you're afraid of sinking. Don't think about it. If you don't think about it, you won't sink. If you do, you will.

Civilize the mind but make savage the body.

All genuine knowledge originates in direct experience.

Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.

To Be Attacked by the Enemy Is Not a Bad Thing but a Good Thing.

In time of difficulties, we must not lose sight of our achievements.

Enable every woman who can work to take her place on the labour front, under the principle of equal pay for equal work.

The people, and the people alone, are the motive force in the making of world history.

We are created with life’s inherent sense of order and urge to thrive.

I mean, making art is about objectifying your experience of the world, transforming the flow of moments into something visual, or textual, or musical, whatever. Art creates a kind of commentary.

Apparently my street has a leaf blower gang who tag team all day, so the sounds of the leaf blower are forever blowing from dawn to dusk.

He's a bully. I love bullies. They have such big, shiny red buttons to push.

A problem thoroughly understood is always fairly simple. Found your opinions on facts, not prejudices. We know too many things that are not true.

By a garden is meant mystically a place of spiritual repose, stillness, peace, refreshment, delight.

The man who has never been tempted doesn't know how dishonest he is.

If there's something wrong, speak up!

At some point in time, in the future, people are going to refer to the Step Up films as the films they grew up on. Hopefully, that inspires them to get in dance films that are being made.

The centuries will burn rich loads With which we groaned, Whose warmth shall lull their dreaming lids, While songs are crooned: But they will not dream of us poor lads, Left in the ground.