Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1317 of 1371 |
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
-- William Shakespeare, "Henry VI"
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1318 of 1371 |
An idea is not responsible for the people who believe in it.
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1319 of 1371 |
An idealist is one who helps the other fellow to make a profit.
-- Henry Ford
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1320 of 1371 |
An idle mind is worth two in the bush.
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1321 of 1371 |
An infallible method of conciliating a tiger
is to allow oneself to be devoured.
-- Konrad Adenauer
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1322 of 1371 |
An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself.
-- Albert Camus
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1323 of 1371 |
An interpretation I satisfies a sentence in the table language if and only if
each entry in the table designates the value of the function designated by the
function constant in the upper-left corner applied to the objects designated
by the corresponding row and column labels.
-- Genesereth & Nilsson, "Logical foundations of Artificial
Intelligence"
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1324 of 1371 |
An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest.
-- Benjamin Franklin
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1325 of 1371 |
An old Jewish man reads about Einstein's theory of relativity
in the newspaper and asks his scientist grandson to explain it to him.
"Well, zayda, it's sort of like this. Einstein says that if
you're having your teeth drilled without Novocain, a minute seems like
an hour. But if you're sitting with a beautiful woman on your lap, an
hour seems like a minute."
The old man considers this profound bit of thinking for a
moment and says, "And from this he makes a living?"
-- Arthur Naiman
|
|
|
Freebsd Fortunes 2: 1326 of 1371 |
An old man is lying on his deathbed with all his children, grandchildren and
great-grandchildren gathered around, teary-eyed at the approaching finale of
a deeply loved family member. The old man is in a light coma, and the doctors
have confirmed that the waiting will be over within the next twenty-four
hours. Suddenly, the old man opens his eyes whispers: "I must be dreaming
of heaven... I smell my daughter Lisle's strudel."
"No, no, grandfather, you are not dreaming", he is reassured.
"Grandmother is baking strudel right now."
A faint smile crosses the old man's face. "Go an get me a sliver of
strudel," he says, "she bakes the finest strudel in the world."
One of the grandchildren is immediately dispatched to honor the old
man's request, and, after what seems a long time, he returns empty-handed.
"Did you bring me some of Lisle's strudel?", the old man quavers.
"I'm... I'm very sorry, grandfather, but she says it's for the
funeral."
|
|