Great god of the Ants, thou hast granted victory to thy servants. I appoint thee honorary Colonel. - Karel Čapek

Without a sense of art, it is impossible ever to think of something new. We need to be poets if we are to keep the world moving.

It is a foible of our human nature that when we have an extremely unpleasant experience, it gives us a peculiar satisfaction if it is “the biggest” of its disagreeable kind that has happened since the world began. During a heat wave, for instance, we are very pleased if the papers announce that it is “the highest temperature reached since the year 1881,” and we feel a little resentment towards the year 1881 for having gone us one better. Or if our ears are frozen till all the skin peels off, it fills us with a certain happiness to learn that “it was the hardest frost recorded since 1786.” It is just the same with wars. The war in progress is either the most righteous or the bloodiest, or the most successful, or the longest, since such and such a time; any superlative whatever always affords us the proud satisfaction of having been through something extraordinary and record-breaking.

Cleverness is usually cruel, malicious and selfish; it seeks a weakness in its neighbor and exploits it for its own gain; it leads to success. [...:] Reason is frequently cruel to man, but it is true to its intentions; it seeks to profit everyone ...