Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Men have become the tools of their tools.

Is it not rather what we expect in men, that they should have numerous strands of experience lying side by side and never compare them with each other?

States are as the men, they grow out of human characters.

The reason why men do not obey us, is because they see the mud at the bottom of our eye.

The successful men I admired all built their bodies.

Men have a respect for scholarship and learning greatly out of proportion to the use they commonly serve.

As far as men go, it is not what they are that interests me, but what they can become.

Men’s ideas are the most direct emanations of their material state.

Men govern nothing with more difficulty than their tongues, and can moderate their desires more than their words.

I think that I do feel that my nature is to express what this self, this particular self at this time, experiences in the world. And that is so organic – I use this metaphor a lot but I’ll use it again – it’s like a pine tree producing pine cones, or a blackberry bush producing blackberries – it’s just what happens with this being, now.

I love tattoos. And mine symbolise who I really am. I have a Samurai on my left arm. At a subconscious level, I connect to this warrior and model myself on his discipline, skills and honour. There is also a tribal tattoo and a Chinese symbol of faith. I have seen a lot of people getting tattoos just because it’s a trend.

All architecture is great architecture after sunset; perhaps architecture is really a nocturnal art, like the art of fireworks.

Men have to do some awfully mean things to keep up their respectability.

Men can only be happy when they do not assume that the object of life is happiness.

Men rise from one ambition to another: first, they seek to secure themselves against attack, and then they attack others.

Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it.

But men are men; the best sometimes forget.

There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.

What’s with you men? Would hair stop growing on your chest if you asked directions somewhere?

That men do not learn very much from the lessons of history is the most important of all the lessons of history.

There are only two kinds of men: the righteous who think they are sinners and the sinners who think they are righteous.

Men create gods after their own image, not only with regard to their form but with regard to their mode of life.

When men are easy in their circumstances, they are naturally enemies to innovations.

Long before history began we men have got together apart from the women and done things. We had time.

Victory is a fleeting thing in the gambling business. Today’s winners are tomorrow’s blinking toads, dumb beasts with no hope.

Men show their character in nothing more clearly than what they think laughable.

Why are women… so much more interesting to men than men are to women?

America is a friend to the people of Iraq. Our demands are directed only at the regime that enslaves them and threatens us. When these demands are met, the first and greatest benefit will come to Iraqi men, women and children.

Men despise religion. They hate it and are afraid it may be true.

Stand a little less between me and the sun.

He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.

Some men do think I’m a psycho bunny-boiler.

Men love to wonder, and that is the seed of science.

Neither should a ship rely on one small anchor, nor should life rest on a single hope.

Men ought either to be indulged or utterly destroyed, for if you merely offend them they take vengeance, but if you injure them greatly they are unable to retaliate, so that the injury done to a man ought to be such that vengeance cannot be feared.

Study men, not historians.

When they speak, dead frogs fall out of their mouths.

Anywhere I go, there is always an incredible crowd that follows me. In Rome, as I land at the airport, even the men kiss me. I love Rome.

Video games are a waste of time for men with nothing else to do. Real brains don’t do that.

I would never want to be a member of a group whose symbol was a guy nailed to two pieces of wood.

The poet, being an imitator like a painter or any other artist, must of necessity imitate one of three objects – things as they were or are, things as they are said or thought to be, or things as they ought to be. The vehicle of expression is language – either current terms or, it may be, rare words or metaphors.

If the boy and girl walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand in the last scene, it adds 10 million to the box office.

It is plain indeed that in spite of later estrangement Hobbits are relatives of ours: far nearer to us than Elves, or even than Dwarves. Of old they spoke the languages of Men, after their own fashion, and liked and disliked much the same things as Men did. But what exactly our relationship is can no longer be discovered.

Men cannot not live by exchanging articles, but producing them. They live by work not trade.

Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them.

We know but a few men, a great many coats and breeches.

Instead of noblemen, let us have noble villages of men.

Left ear, I wear four earrings. The four is symbolic of the four seasons, spring, winter, summer and fall, the four directions, north, east, south and west, the four gospel writers, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

All men by nature desire knowledge.

Men are moved by two levers only: fear and self interest.

Rhetoric is the art of ruling the minds of men.

There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.

Women have simple tastes. They get pleasure out of the conversation of children in arms and men in love.

When I hear a man preach, I like to see him act as if he were fighting bees.

Men do not shape destiny, Destiny produces the man for the hour.

All men are children, and of one family. The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning.

Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.

All men are frauds. The only difference between them is that some admit it. I myself deny it.

Hell is a half-filled auditorium.

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.