Weather is a literary specialty, and no untrained hand can turn out a good article on it
Mark TwainRead
Censorship is telling a man he can't have a steak just because a baby can't chew it.
Interpretation
Censorship restricts access to information for everyone based on the limitations of a few.
Mark Twain's quote reflects the absurdity of censorship by illustrating that it is unreasonable to deny access to certain knowledge or experiences for all, just because some may be unable to handle it. The quote emphasizes the importance of freedom of expression and the right to access information, suggesting that restrictions should not be imposed based on the inability of a minority to understand or cope with it.
In practice
In a discussion about media freedom, one might say, 'As Mark Twain pointed out, censorship is like denying a steak to an adult because a baby can't chew it.'
Weather is a literary specialty, and no untrained hand can turn out a good article on it
The easy part of being an artist is figuring out the message that everyone else is ready to hear. The hard part is waiting for the proper lull to make the announcement.
You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns.
To be good is noble; but to show others how to be good is nobler and no trouble.
Name the greatest of all inventors. Accident.
In Paris they just simply opened their eyes and stared when we spoke to them in French! We never did succeed in making those idiots understand their own language.
The age of nations has passed. Now, unless we wish to perish, we must shake off our old prejudices and build the Earth. The more scientifically I regard the world, the less can I see any possible biological future for it except in the active consciousness of its unity.
I think television has betrayed the meaning of democratic speech, adding visual chaos to the confusion of voices. What role does silence have in all this noise?
Addiction has the capacity to disconnect the human will and nullify moral agency. It can rob one of the power to decide.
What am I, Life? A thing of watery salt Held in cohesion by unresting cells, Which work they know not why, which never halt, Myself unwitting where their Master dwells?
Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.
Now you see, Dr. Stadler, you're speaking as if this book were addressing to a thinking audience. If it were, one would have to be concerned with such matters as accuracy, validity, logic and the prestige of science. But it isn't. It's addressed to the public.
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