To his dog, every man is Napoleon; hence the constant popularity of dogs.
Aldous HuxleyRead
For at least two thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity, idealism, dogmatism and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religious or political idols
Interpretation
Our suffering often stems from human foolishness and the extremes of our beliefs.
Aldous Huxley reflects on the origins of human misery, attributing a significant portion of it to the foolishness, malice, and rigid idealism that people exhibit. He suggests that this kind of fervent belief, whether in religion or politics, can lead to destructive behaviors and justifications for harmful actions, highlighting how such attitudes contribute to the darker aspects of human experience.
In practice
In a debate about political ideologies, one might quote Huxley to emphasize the dangers of blind allegiance.
To his dog, every man is Napoleon; hence the constant popularity of dogs.
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
In the course of history many more people have died for their drink and their dope than have died for their religion or their country.
On no account brood over your wrongdoing. Rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean.
No man ever dared to manifest his boredom so insolently as does a Siamese tomcat when he yawns in the face of his amorously importunate wife.
The leech's kiss, the squid's embrace, The prurient ape's defiling touch: And do you like the human race? No, not much.
Curiously enough, it seems to be only in describing a mode of language which does not mean what it says that one can actually say what one means.
I would say in just about every investigation we have, there will be differences of opinion, where you have partial facts, as to what those facts mean.
The human voice is the organ of the soul.
The exit is usually where the entrance was.
There is no stability in this world. Who is to say what meaning there is in anything? Who is to foretell the flight of a word? It is a balloon that sails over tree-tops. To speak of knowledge is futile. All is experiment and adventure. We are forever mixing ourselves with unknown quantities. What is to come? I know not. But, as I put down my glass I remember; I am engaged to be married. I am to dine with my friends tonight. I am Bernard.
The press is impotent when it abandons itself to falsehood.
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