How can you trust in something you don’t really know?

There really is nothing like firsthand knowledge if it’s mine.

The brain isn’t a muscle, it’s stronger than that.

Men are stupid, and a lot of them need to be told things on top of being shown.

The only thing anyone can really know for sure is that you can’t really know anything for sure. If you’re lucky, you can get half the truth.

The passing of knowledge is, after all, an act of creation, the lesson like spermatozoa, the mind of the pupil a fecund womb, making something, a synapse, where there wasn’t anything before. The knowledge, like DNA, is passed, gestates, then takes on a life of its own: growing, flourishing, perhaps creating new knowledge itself.