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#6494 | | In the first place, God made idiots; this was for practice; then he made school boards. -- Mark Twain
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#6495 | | In the plot, people came to the land; the land loved them; they worked and struggled and had lots of children. There was a Frenchman who talked funny and a greenhorn from England who was a fancy-pants but when it came to the crunch he was all courage. Those novels would make you retch. -- Canadian novelist Robertson Davies, on the generic Canadian novel.
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#6496 | | In the space of one hundred and seventy-six years the Mississippi has shortened itself two hundred and forty-two miles. Therefore ... in the Old Silurian Period the Mississippi River was upward of one million three hundred thousand miles long ... seven hundred and forty-two years from now the Mississippi will be only a mile and three-quarters long. ... There is something fascinating about science. One gets such wholesome returns of conjecture out of such a trifling investment of fact. -- Mark Twain
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#6497 | | In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours. -- Mark Twain, on New England weather
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#6498 | | It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. -- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "A Case of Identity"
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#6499 | | It is a wise father that knows his own child. -- William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice"
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#6500 | | It is by the fortune of God that, in this country, we have three benefits: freedom of speech, freedom of thought, and the wisdom never to use either. -- Mark Twain
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#6501 | | It is easy to find fault, if one has that disposition. There was once a man who, not being able to find any other fault with his coal, complained that there were too many prehistoric toads in it. -- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
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#6502 | | It is often the case that the man who can't tell a lie thinks he is the best judge of one. -- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
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#6503 | | It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old all down the unchanging days and die one day like any other day, only shorter. -- Samuel Beckett, "Malone Dies"
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